


Deepest Desires

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Series: Deepest Desires [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Dominant Bucky Barnes, Edging, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flogging, Fluff and Smut, Heavy Angst, Hospitalization, Kidnapping, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Pregnancy, Protective Bucky Barnes, Safeword Use, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Shower Sex, Smut, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 84,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23045494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: A series of sexual escapades where Bucky shows you what it’s like to give in to your deepest desires.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Series: Deepest Desires [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621537
Comments: 236
Kudos: 480





	1. The First Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-imagining of a previously posted series. It is a representation of a healthy, not-abusive, BDSM relationship because I believe the one in that book series is an extremely poor representation of a healthy BDSM relationship. I want to thank everyone for their support the last few months. It has meant a lot.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky have sex for the first time.

“What?” You would have laughed at the look on Bucky’s face if you hadn’t been so unbelievably embarrassed by the fact that you’d just had to tell him you were a virgin. Not that there was anything wrong with being a virgin, not even a little. What was embarrassing was having to tell the man interested in having a strictly sexual relationship with you that you were a virgin. 

You blew out an irritated breath. You didn’t exactly want to repeat yourself, not with this anyway. “I’ve never had sex,” you repeated. “I’m a virgin.” You dropped your head into your hands, too shy or too embarrassed to make eye contact with Bucky any longer.

“You...you didn’t mention that before,” he said. “I thought -”

You didn’t raise your head to look at him. You were too afraid of what you might see on his face. Disappointment. Rejection. “You thought I was experienced,” you finished for him.

“Hey,” Bucky murmured softly. “Hey, Y/N, look at me.”

You reluctantly raised your head, eyes locking with Bucky’s. He smiled sweetly at you, putting you immediately at ease. He was so good at that.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he said, rising to his feet and crossing the room to kneel in front of you. He took your hands in his, his thumbs rubbing circles on the back of your hands. “No need to be embarrassed.”

You shrugged one shoulder and shook your head. Easy for him to say; he was the one with the experience, the one propositioning you, while you were the one having to sit back and say “oops, I’m a virgin, probably not what you’re looking for in a woman.” The thought made your stomach twist in a painful, nauseating knot.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” you mumbled. “Maybe I’m not ready for this.”

Bucky put a finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Say the word, doll, and I’m gone. I’ll walk away and leave you alone. We can be friends, you and me. Just friends. Nothing more.”

“That’s not what I want,” you whispered. “That’s not what I want at all.”

Bucky pushed open your legs, easing between them, his hands falling to your waist. He moved closer, so close you could feel his breath blowing against your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he murmured.

Your heart pounded so hard you thought it might beat out of your chest. You swallowed and nodded slowly, staring into his bright blue eyes.

He tugged gently on your chin, silently urging you to move toward him. You slid to the edge of the couch, meeting Bucky halfway. He brushed a kiss across your lips, his metal arm wrapping around your back, his warm vibranium fingertips drifting across the skin between the top of your jeans and the bottom of your blouse, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. His tongue traced your lips and when your mouth opened, he leaned into you, fully exploring your mouth, his tongue moving over your teeth and lips, his nose brushing against yours as the kiss deepened. You moved to slide your hand up his metal arm, intent on wrapping your arm around his neck, but he caught it, taking hold of your wrist and pulling your arm behind your back, holding it there as he kissed you.

“Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he smirked when you broke apart.

“No, but that wasn’t sex,” you retorted. “That was just a kiss.”

Bucky chuckled and shook his head, then he rose to his feet, his arm still around your waist, lifting you off your feet. “Come to bed with me,” he said. It was a question, but at the same time, it wasn’t. “Let me show you how good it can be.”

A shiver raced through you, from head to toe, while your stomach clenched, fear of the unknown making you slightly nauseous. You swallowed past the lump rising in your throat and forced yourself not to lose it. You wanted this, wanted Bucky, even if it meant getting that in only one way; not as his girlfriend, but as the woman he had sex with every now and then.

“Okay,” you murmured. “I..I want to try.”

Bucky scooped you up, his arm under your legs, and carried you through his apartment to the bedroom. He kicked open the door, stepped inside, turned around, and set you on the floor just outside the bedroom. You leaned over the threshold, taking it all in. It was an almost non-descript room with white walls and pale blue blankets on the bed. The bed was enormous, plain with strong, oak wood, and four sturdy posts. On the wall above it was a large photograph of New York, an old one from the looks of it, probably taken before World War II, definitely not modern. The other furniture in the room, sparse as it was, just a chair and one large dresser, matched the bed.

You were glued to the floor, unable to move, scared you would mess up, do or say something so stupid that Bucky would shoo you out of his apartment with a disappointed laugh. You watched him as he walked backward into the room, his chestnut locks pulled back in a low ponytail, his blue eyes sparkling, watching you, waiting for you to make a decision.

“It’s up to you, doll,” he shrugged. “You can come in or you can turn around and walk out the door. You decide.”

You took a tentative step across the threshold, easing slowly into the room. Bucky waited until you were all the way inside before moving to stand in front of you. He slipped his hands under the edge of your blouse, his hands on your bare skin, tugging you closer. He dropped his head and brushed a kiss across your lips.

“Are you...we, uh, going to do all that stuff you talked about the other day?” you asked.

“No, not this time,” Bucky smiled. “We’ll start slow, ease into it. For now, we’ll just go with plain, old vanilla sex.”

You couldn’t help it, you giggled. “Vanilla sex?”

“Yep, good, but not as good as chocolate,” Bucky chuckled.

“I like vanilla,” you whispered.

“Yeah, well, I think you’re gonna like this, too. Come on.” His hand closed around yours, tugging gently, leading you to the edge of the bed. His lips slid along your jaw and down your neck, settling on your pulse point and sucking greedily even as he slipped his hands under the edge of your blouse and pulled it up, his lips leaving your skin just long enough to yank it over your head.

Your breathing sped up, your pulse raced, and heat blossomed across your skin. Your head fell back, giving Bucky better access. Every nerve ending was on fire, your body burning for his touch, breathy gasps escaping you as Bucky’s hands roamed your body. He pulled away, his eyes dancing over your face, drinking you in. He sat on the edge of the bed, standing you between his legs.

Bucky reached up and unbuttoned your jeans, then he hooked his fingers in the belt loops and slowly pulled them down, his eyes never leaving yours. A shiver raced through you and you reached for him again, but he stopped you, taking your hands and holding them at your sides.

“Don’t move,” he ordered.

You squirmed in his grip. “Bucky -”

“I said, don’t move,” he repeated more forcefully.

He leaned close and dragged his nose up your stomach, inhaling deeply. His tongue darted out, twirling around your belly button, bringing goosebumps to the surface of your skin. You wanted to squirm, to move, to do something, but Bucky’s grip was like a vise and you couldn’t do anything but stand in front of him as he explored you with his mouth and tongue.

You were trembling by the time Bucky pulled you onto the bed beside him, his arms around you, your legs tangled together.

You were stiff, awkwardly lying in Bucky’s arms, afraid you’d do the wrong thing, say the wrong thing. A million thoughts were jumbled together in your head and you couldn’t concentrate long enough to sort them out.

Bucky must have sensed how you were feeling because he cupped the back of your head and gently kissed you. “Relax,” he murmured. “I promise, we won’t do anything you don’t want to do. We’re going to start slow, just slow, easy sex, then later, we’ll work on the basics. Okay?” He kissed the tip of your nose.

“Okay,” you nodded.

His hands slid over your body, one of them settling on your breast, kneading and massaging it carefully, his thumb rubbing gently over the nipple. He wrapped his arms around you, expertly unhooked your bra, and slid the straps down your arms. He caught your lips in his, kissing you until your head spun, before moving to your neck, sucking greedily at your throat, and your shoulders until his mouth closed around your breast, his tongue flicking out to delicately tease the nipple. His hand traced slow, lazy circles down your stomach and over your hip, the metal surprisingly warm. 

Bucky cupped the back of your head, pulling you to him so he could kiss you, slowly, gently, distracting you as he slipped his hand between your legs and into your underwear, his fingers dancing over you. You moaned, your hips rising, chasing his teasing fingertips, but he chuckled and shook his head, pushing them back onto the bed, holding you in place.

“Be still, doll,” he said. “I promise, it’ll be worth it.”

You squeezed your eyes closed and nodded, silently chastising yourself for disobeying Bucky yet again. You blew out a shaky breath and twisted your fingers in his hair, returning his kisses, reminding yourself that you were safe with Bucky; he wouldn’t hurt you.

You weren’t sure what you expected, but it certainly wasn’t the delicate caresses along the lips of your pussy, patient and slow. Bucky took his time, fondling you with one finger, slowly separating your lips, smoothly prodding at your entrance until his finger slipped inside, just to the knuckle, pumping it slowly in and out. You could barely concentrate on what he was doing with his fingers, when his mouth was devouring you, moving over every inch of your neck and chest, licking, nipping, and kissing you. You were overwhelmed with the sensations roaring through your body, taking you apart piece by piece.

Your back arched, your body flush against Bucky’s, silently begging him for more. You moaned as he eased another finger into you and his thumb brushed across your clit. He crooked his fingers and suddenly, your vision went white and unbelievable, pure, unadulterated pleasure burst through you.

Bucky continued kissing you as you came down from the most intoxicating thing you had ever experienced. He pushed off your underwear, adding them to the pile of clothes beside the bed, then he rose to his feet and quickly shucked off his own clothes. He yanked open the drawer on the bedside table, pulled out a condom, then he crawled back over you, nestling himself between your legs, his mouth slanted over yours, kissing you again. You could feel his hard length pressing against your leg, ratcheting your nerves up to nearly astronomical heights, a tremble of fear racing through you.

Fortunately, Bucky seemed to have infinite amounts of patience with you, continuing to kiss you as he opened you up, his touches soft and easy.

“You ready, doll?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” you murmured. “I-I’m scared…”

“I swear I won’t hurt you,” he said. “If you want to stop, just say the word.” He took your hand in his flesh one, your fingers intertwined with his, and pulled it above your head. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded, even though you thought your heart might pound out of your chest and you were shaking.

Bucky pulled your leg around his waist and lined himself up with your entrance, kissing you as he eased into you. He pushed past the final barrier so carefully you only felt a slight pinch and then he was moving, his hand on your thigh, holding you in place, his impressive length stretching you as he began slowly thrusting. He led you, showing you exactly how and when to move, incredibly patient and understanding with your lack of experience, despite your fear that he would balk.

You were moving as if you’d been together forever and then, to your surprise, you were coming again, a warmth spreading through your body, filling you. You couldn’t believe Bucky had pulled two orgasms from you in such a short time, especially when you’d never really had one before, though you didn’t have time to dwell on it, not when Bucky was gripping your hand so tight you thought it might break as he slammed into you, pounding you into the mattress, deeper and harder with every thrust until you were screaming out your pleasure yet again, your entire body alight with pure bliss.

Bucky let go with a deep groan, his face pressed against the side of your neck, a shudder running through him. He collapsed on top of you, kissing you until you couldn’t breathe. When you reached up to put your arms around him, he rolled off of you with a grunt, moving to the other side of the bed. He disposed of the condom, tossing it the small trashcan beside the bed.

“Bucky,” you whined.

“Mmm, no whining, doll,” he laughed quietly. “Cuddling is not exactly something I do.” He caressed your cheek with his thumb. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, I’m fine. In fact, I’m better than fine.” Heat rushed to your cheeks. Embarrassed, you rolled away from him and buried your face in the pillow.

You felt the bed dip behind you, then Bucky was pressed against your back, his lips on your neck. “Don’t hide from me, Y/N,” he whispered. “What is it?”

“I never thought it would be like that,” you murmured. “A girl could get used to that.”

Bucky chuckled, the sound rich and deep, making you tingle with need. “I promise you that there is so much more you could learn. If you just let me teach you.” His lips roamed over the back of your neck and your shoulders, his hand resting on your stomach. He didn’t leave it there long, sliding up your stomach to your breast, his thumb brushing the nipple, moving it in slow circles until the nipple was hard and aching.

You held back a moan, your face pressed into the pillow, even as his hand slipped between your legs and he slowly rubbed your already sensitive clit, your hips bucking under his ministrations.

“We’re gonna have to work on keeping you still,” Bucky growled, easing first one finger, then a second into you, thrusting gently.

The kisses against your neck were hot and wet, his erection thick and throbbing between your bodies. You resisted the urge to press yourself against him, resisted the urge to grind your ass against his cock. He moved away for a brief second and you heard a condom wrapper being opened, then he lifted your leg, pushing into you from behind. You gasped as he entered you slowly, an inch at a time until he was buried deep inside you. 

Bucky moved his hips in tight, hard thrusts, his fingers resting against your clit, rubbing slow, careful circles as he took you from behind. It didn’t take long before you were gasping his name and pushing yourself down on his cock, everything he was doing easily bringing you to climax. You bit down on the pillow, your screams of pleasure muffled. A few hard thrusts later and Bucky was coming, hit teeth sinking into your shoulder, biting gently as his body tensed against your back.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as Bucky’s cock softened between your legs, his nose nuzzled against your neck. Unfortunately, he didn’t stay there long, rolling off the bed and to his feet. You closed your eyes, listening to the sounds of Bucky in the bathroom, cleaning himself up.

You were half asleep when Bucky returned, rolling you to your back and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He cleaned you up and helped you to your feet. He helped you get dressed and at first, you protested, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep as a bone-deep exhaustion settled over you. You yawned and grumbled, eventually giving in and letting him help you. 

Once you were fully clothed, Bucky slid his arm around you, hugging you to his side, as he led you from his room, through the compound, and down a long hallway to the apartment that had temporarily become yours. He helped you get undressed and into bed, pulled the blanket up to your chin and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he murmured.

“You’re not staying?” you mumbled, your eyes already slipping closed. You struggled to keep them open.

“I don’t do sleepovers,” he laughed. He kissed you again and then he was gone, your door closing quietly behind him.

You were so utterly spent, you were deep asleep within minutes.


	2. The Basics Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky stops by your room after a long day and offers to show you some of the basics.

The knock was short and sharp, insistent. You wrapped your robe around yourself and hurried to open the door of your small apartment.

“Bucky, hi,” you smiled at the man standing in your doorway. “What are you doing here?”

You hadn’t seen Bucky since he’d walked you to your room last night. You’d both spent the day doing your own thing - you’d been helping Pepper in the office, while Bucky had spent the day in the on-site training facility. You’d gone straight to your apartment right after work, too exhausted to make small talk or visit with anyone. All you’d wanted to do was take a shower, eat something, and watch Netflix until you fell asleep. Of course, Bucky had been on your mind all day, distracting you in the best possible way, though it hadn’t been conducive to getting anything done. Pepper had even commented on your lack of focus several times, which was why you’d ended up working late, an attempt to make up for the multitude of mistakes you’d made while distracted.

“I thought I’d stop by and show you a few things,” Bucky smirked, interrupting your train of thought.

“I-I’m sorry?” you stammered. “Things? What sort of things?”

Bucky stepped into the room, pushed the door closed, and leaned against it with his arms crossed. “I think there are a few things you need to learn. Kind of the basics. Since I didn’t know you were a virgin when we started dating, I want to make sure you’re not getting into something you can’t handle.”

“I think I can handle you, Buck,” you laughed, even though you weren’t sure you could. The thought of the things Bucky might want to do to you made you nervous.

“We’ll see about that,” Bucky shook his head, a chuckle rumbling from his throat. His eyes roamed the length of your body. “Were you going to sleep?”

“Sort of,” you shrugged. “I just got out of the shower and I was planning to crawl into bed and watch some TV.”

“Hm, think I could talk you out of that?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” you teased softly, shrugging one shoulder.

“Is that a challenge?” Bucky asked, one eyebrow raised.

You shrugged again. You really weren’t sure if you were challenging Bucky or not. The only thing you did know was that you were nervous, your stomach twisting and turning. You had no idea what he had in mind and that thought alone made your heart pound. At the same time, you desperately wanted to know what kinds of things he wanted to show you.

Bucky pushed past you, taking your hand and pulling you after him. You kicked the door closed and let him lead you to the edge of the bed. He stood you in front of him and pressed a kiss to your lips, soft and gentle, leaving you wanting more.

He took a step back and pulled his t-shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. Your eyes roamed over him, drinking him in. You reached up to touch him, to run your fingers over the scars that marred his chest and shoulder, but he caught your arm, his head shaking minutely. You winced and dropped your arm.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured.

Bucky pulled you into him and kissed you, your arms in his hand, behind your back, his tongue delving into your mouth, staking his claim over you. You could kiss Bucky all night long, you  _ wanted _ to kiss Bucky all night long.

You tipped your head to the side as Bucky’s lips slid down your jaw and over your neck. He released your hands, untied your robe, and pushed it off, letting it fall at your feet. His hand was on your waist, squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing.

“God, Y/N, I love kissing you. That mouth of yours drives me crazy,” Bucky groaned. “I want you to use your mouth on me, doll. Can you do that? Will you do that for me?”

You nodded without hesitating. You’d never done that before, along with the millions of other things you’d never done, but you wanted to do this for Bucky. Only for Bucky.

He released you, yanked off his jeans and underwear, and dropped them on the end of the bed, then he sat down, completely naked. You took a deep breath and kneeled between his legs.

Bucky cupped your face in his hand, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “It’s okay, doll,” he murmured. “Take it nice and slow, just do whatever you want to do, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“I’m not comfortable with anything,” you mumbled. “I...I’ve never done this before.”

Bucky dragged you to your feet and pulled you onto the bed beside him. You laid down next to him, trembling. You felt like you’d disappointed him.

“Give me your hand,” he murmured. “I want you to touch me, doll.”

You nodded, closed your eyes, and did as you were told. Bucky took your hand and pulled it between your bodies, the back of your fingers brushing against his semi-hard shaft. You took a deep breath and gently wrapped your fingers around him, brushing the tip with your thumb. Bucky moaned, a deep breathy “yes” leaving him.

Encouraged by the sounds he was making, you slowly stroked him from base to tip, amazed at the velvety softness of his cock. You traced the thick vein on the underside, drawing another moan from him.

“Just like that, sweetheart,” he sighed. “That’s perfect.”

You continued stroking him, experimenting, twisting your hand at the last second, brushing your thumb across the tip. The way Bucky was moving his hips and the absolutely obscene noises he was making emboldened you, so you pushed yourself to your knees and moved down the bed until you were hovering over him. You leaned down and sucked the tip of his cock between your lips, your tongue swirling around the head.

A guttural groan burst out of Bucky, his fingers in your hair, his hips rising to meet your mouth. You opened your mouth wide, sliding him in as far as you could take him, then easing him out again. You kept doing that, varying your movements with a subtle twist of your hand or speeding up and then slowing down how fast you were moving. 

“Oh, fuck, doll, that feels good,” he growled, thrusting deep into your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. His length was unbelievably hard, throbbing, pulsing in your hand. Filthy moans came from Bucky and you were feeling drunk with power, the knowledge that you were making those sounds come out of him making you feel high.

To your surprise, despite the fact that it seemed as if Bucky was enjoying himself, he grabbed you under the arms and dragged you up the length of his body, his mouth slanting over yours, his hard length pressed against your leg.

“We’re gonna start with something easy, okay?” he whispered, his nose sliding up your neck before kissing you just below your ear. He took hold of your hand and pulled them over your head. He curled your fingers around the metal bars of your headboard. “Hold onto those and don’t let go.”

You nodded and Bucky pressed another kiss to your lips. “Promise me you won’t move,” he whispered. “This is one of those things I want to teach you.”

“I promise to  _ try _ not to move,” you grinned.

“You’re incorrigible,” he chuckled. “Trust me, it’ll be worth your while if you don’t move.”

“O-okay,” you stammered. You tightened your grip on the metal bars, holding them so tight your knuckles ached. You were determined to do as Bucky asked, determined to show him that you could be what he wanted.

Bucky rose to his knees, his hands sliding down your legs. He lifted the right one and brought it to his mouth, delicately kissing the inside of your ankle. His brilliant blue eyes were locked on yours as he moved up your leg to the inside of your thigh, his stubbled chin tickling the sensitive skin. He took hold of the other leg and did the same thing, kissing your ankle, your calf, and your thigh, moving with the same meticulous care he had when he’d kissed the other leg. He stretched out on the bed, his hands on your hips, his thumbs resting lightly on your hip bones, his head between your legs.

You wiggled, unsure of what you were supposed to do, if anything. Bucky rested his metal hand on your stomach and shot a glare at you.

“I said don’t move,” he growled.

You whimpered quietly, but you nodded and squeezed your eyes closed, hoping if you couldn’t see what Bucky was doing it might help you keep still.

His nose slid along the soft skin surrounding your warm core and he inhaled deeply. His lips parted and the tip of his tongue slipped out to tenderly lick the silken folds. His mouth moved over your pussy, not quite a lick, not quite a kiss, but a subtle, gentle caress that left your skin burning with unfulfilled promises of more. He rained kisses over your stomach, skating up your body, finally settling on your breast. He pulled it into his mouth, laving the nipple repeatedly with his tongue. His hand glided down your stomach and between your legs, pushing them open so he could slide a finger inside you, his thumb pressed against your clit. He teased it, repeatedly brushing his thumb over it, biting at your nipple as he slipped two fingers inside of you, tortuously pumping them in and out.

A low moan escaped you. You were precariously balanced on the edge of pleasure and pain, Bucky’s fingers inside you, his teeth pulling at your nipple, pushing you rapidly toward a climax. You wanted to grab his arm, desperate to touch him, desperate to feel him as he worked you over. Your eyes shot open and the sight of his lips moving so intimately over your body sent you over the edge. You bit your lip, holding back a scream as your body exploded with insane amounts of pleasure and your hips ground against his fingers.

You would have thought that would be enough for Bucky, bringing you to orgasm that one time, but he only lifted his head and brushed a kiss against your mouth, nothing more than a tease before he dragged his lips down your body and took your other breast in his mouth, sucking greedily until the nipple was a hard, tight aching nub. He replaced his mouth with his hand, continuing to slide down your body, leaving a scorching trail of lustful want everywhere he touched. His fingers were still moving inside you, caressing your inner walls, each brush over your sweet spot causing your body to scream with need. His breath blowing over you nearly sent you reeling again and a sudden urge to shove him away came over you.

“Bucky, stop, wait,” you gasped.

He looked up at you, his blue eyes blown black with lust, his head tipped to one side, a decided smirk on his face.

“Y-you don’t...don’t have to,” you stammered. “I’ve never...no one’s ever…”

“That’s even better, doll,” he whispered. “I want to be the first to give you pleasure like this. I want to be the first to touch you so intimately.” His eyes darkened even more. “I want to be the first to taste you.” 

He slowly slid his fingers from inside you, replaced immediately by his tongue, then he eased his hands under you and lifted you to meet his mouth.

You gasped his name as he consumed you, your entire body humming, vibrating with the incessant need to let go, to allow the pleasure to sear through your very bones, to take you and fill you. You let it in, let  _ him _ in, the second orgasm better than the first as you opened yourself up and let yourself feel everything Bucky was doing to you.

He held you as the orgasm rolled through you, leaving you a trembling mess, the pleasure almost more than you could handle. When he finally released you, your entire body was shaking and you could barely move.

Bucky moved back up your body, his hand between your legs, two fingers deep, your body open and ready for him after what he’d done to you. He slowly pumped his fingers and pressed his thumb to your clit, your back arching in response, forgetting you weren’t supposed to move, your hips bucking wildly as you came again.

He released you, grabbed his jeans, yanked a condom from his pocket, and quickly slid it down his length. He took a deep breath, pulled your legs around his waist, and eased into you, taking his time, burying himself inside of you before slowly pulling out, so slow that you found yourself clutching the metal bars on the headboard so tight your nails dug half-moon circles in your palms. Your hips rose to meet his, your thighs trembling, your body already pushed to near climax again. Bucky kept thrusting, pounding into you until you weren’t sure you could take anymore. He tangled his fingers in your hair and tipped your head back, running his tongue over your neck, nipping, sucking, biting, marking you. He slammed into you one last time, buried to the hilt, shuddering as he came.

When it was over, Bucky took hold of your hands, prying your fingers off the metal bars, tangling your fingers together as he nibbled at your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin.

“Whaddya say, doll? You gonna give me a shot?” he murmured. “It’s obvious we’re good together.”

“Why me, Bucky?” you whispered. “Why do you want to be with me?”

A scowl momentarily marred Bucky’s gorgeous face, then he kissed you until you couldn’t breathe. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “There’s something about you that makes me crazy, makes me want you.”

You gently tucked a strand of his chestnut hair behind his ear. You realized at that moment that you would do anything for Bucky. Anything. You belonged to him. He’d already taken you to heights you hadn’t known existed and the thought that he wanted you was both exhilarating and frightening. You couldn’t say no to him. You wouldn’t. You opened your mouth to tell him just that, but the sound of a ringing phone interrupted you.

“Shit,” Bucky cursed. “I have to get that.” He pushed himself off the bed, snatched his clothes off the floor, and hurried into the bathroom. He emerged a minute later, dressed, with his phone pressed to his ear. He grabbed your robe off the floor and held it out to you. You crawled out of the bed, taking it from him and putting it on.

“I’ll be right down,” he said. “Five minutes.” He disconnected the call and tucked the phone in the pocket of his jeans. “I have to go, doll.” He leaned over you, took your chin in his hand, and kissed you, his tongue tracing your lower lip, the fingers of his metal hand stroking your face.

“The answer to your question?” you murmured. “If you and I could be together?” You rested your hand on his. “Yes.”

“Yes?” he asked, looking closely at you. “You sure, doll?”

“I’m sure,” you nodded.

A smile broke out across Bucky’s face, a smile that quickly turned to a mischievous grin as he took hold of the tie on your robe, tugging at it until it came free. He twisted it around his fingers and held it at eye level, dangling it in front of you.

“Next time,” he said. He kissed you one last time and disappeared out the door.


	3. The Basics Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky takes things between you to yet another level, teaching you another one of the basics.

“What are you doing tonight?”

Bucky’s mouth was right beside your ear, his body flush against yours, his metal hand resting over yours. Heat flooded you, your body tensing at having him so unbelievably close. You turned your hand over and laced your fingers with his. You shook your head and murmured “nothing” just loud enough for Bucky to hear.

“Come to my room around ten,” he ordered, his voice low so only you would hear him.

A shudder ran through you and you somehow managed to nod. Bucky pressed a kiss to the spot right behind your ear and then he was gone.

Every eye in the room was on you - Steve’s, Wanda’s, even Tony’s - and you wanted nothing more than to vanish into thin air. You grabbed your coffee and hurried from the room, the weight of their stares following you.

At ten p.m. on the dot you were outside Bucky’s door, shifting from foot to foot. Before you could knock, the door flew open. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of Bucky standing in front of you, hair pulled back, barefoot, wearing nothing but a black t-shirt and a pair of faded jeans. He didn’t say anything, just pushed the door open all the way and waited.

You took a deep breath and stepped inside, jumping a little when the door slammed closed behind you. A second later, Bucky’s arms were around your waist, pulling you against his chest, his lips on your neck. You tipped your head to the side, giving him easier access, one hand coming up to tangle in his hair, a quiet moan leaving you.

“I missed you,” he whispered.

“You just saw me this morning,” you laughed. “In the kitchen? Remember?”

“Oh, I remember,” Bucky sighed. “I remember that you looked absolutely delectable, but because everyone was in the kitchen, watching us, I couldn’t do what I wanted to do to you.”

“Oh,” you breathed. “And what was it you wanted to do to me?”

Bucky started walking, crossing the apartment, and moving down the hall, pushing you in front of him. He went directly to the bed, stopping beside it. A second later, the tie from your robe, the one he’d taken the other night, was dangling in front of your eyes.

“What’s that for?” you asked quietly.

“Another one of those things I want to show you,” Bucky replied. “But only if you want to.”

“O-okay,” you stammered. “What are you going to do with it?”

“I’m going to tie you to my bed,” he growled. His face softened and his tone shifted. “But  _ only _ if you want me to. Only if you think you’re ready.”

Your heart was ready to pound out of your chest, and while the thought of being tied up, helpless, and completely controlled by Bucky frightened you, it also made your entire body ache with need. The whole point of this arrangement with Bucky was to explore your deepest sexual desires, which included desires you hadn’t known existed.

“I want to,” you murmured. “I’m ready to try.”

“Get on the bed,” he said, his tone strong, authoritative. He slapped your right ass cheek as he took a step backward.

You jumped, though it hadn’t really hurt, it just surprised you. You’d never heard that tone from him before. You kind of liked it. You kicked off your shoes and followed his directions, climbing onto the bed and lying down. Bucky waited until you were stretched out across the bed, then he straddled you, the tie from your robe twisted around his fingers. He leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

“If at any point, you want to stop, you tell me,” Bucky said. “I mean it. I won’t be angry, I won’t be upset. Your safety and well being are more important to me than anything. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, nodding.

Bucky pushed his hands under your shirt and pushed it over your head, pressing a kiss to your lips before dropping it on the floor and sitting up. He grabbed your wrists in one hand, holding them together and fastening the tie around them, then he tied one end to the post on his headboard. He pulled at the bindings, testing his work. It was tight, though not tight enough to hurt. The tie was thick, soft cotton, fluffy, like your robe. Once he was satisfied that you weren’t going anywhere, he rose up on his knees, staring down at you, his blue eyes flashing with something indescribable.

“Bucky?” you exhaled, your voice shaking, wondering if something was wrong or if you’d somehow messed up. “What is it?”

Bucky rested a hand beside your head and leaned over you, his lips brushing against yours, his tongue delicately dancing across your lower lip. “Just breathe, doll,” he whispered. “I won’t hurt you, I promise.” One arm slid beneath you, lifting you up to meet his mouth, the kiss soft, gentle, probing.

You relaxed in his arms, confident that Bucky wouldn’t hurt you, wouldn’t do anything that you didn’t want to do. He held you, kissing you, one hand roaming over your body until your breathing slowed and you were whimpering.

“You ready?”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure that you were. You didn’t know what you expected, but it certainly wasn’t for Bucky to climb off the bed and stalk across the room, out of your sight. You could hear him doing something, moving around the room and the unmistakable sound of ice clinking in a glass. A few seconds later, he was back on the bed, his shirt and jeans were gone, and he was wearing only his boxers. He positioned himself so his knees were on either side of your hips, his long, chestnut locks brushing against your cheeks as he leaned over you. He kissed your neck, right at your pulse point, dragging his lips and teeth over the skin, making you squirm with sudden need. He stopped with his hands on your hips, squeezing, his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh.

“Y/N, you have to be still,” he scolded.

“I know,” you gasped. “You just make it so hard.”

A deep laugh rumbled from Bucky’s throat, then he was hovering over you again, his lips moving over your neck and shoulders, his kisses rough and demanding.

“Close your eyes,” he ordered. “Close them and keep them closed.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you murmured.

“If you can’t, I can blindfold you,” he said. “Your choice.”

You closed your eyes immediately, earning another laugh from Bucky. He moved, taking something from the bedside table, your stomach clenching in anticipation. You were rapidly learning that with Bucky, anything was possible.

The first touch of the ice cube to the hollow of your throat made you gasp in surprise, your eyes popping open. Bucky was between your legs, sliding the ice cube down the valley between your breasts, bringing goosebumps to the surface of your skin everywhere it touched, making you shiver. As it melted against your warm skin, he licked at the cold liquid sliding down your chest, his tongue warm, his lips cold. He blew warm breath across your skin, his tongue snaking out to flick lightly at your nipple. A wicked smile flitted across his face as he dropped to your side, propped on one arm, his lips against your neck, the ice cube in his hand now being used to draw circles around the outside of breasts, slowly working its way toward your nipple.

“Eyes closed, doll,” he ordered quietly.

You mumbled a curse under your breath, but you closed your eyes. Your nipple was a hard bud, achingly hard. Bucky hummed low in the back of his throat and inched the ice cube closer to the peak of your breast. A shiver wracked your body as he skimmed the tip of your nipple with the ice, causing indescribable need coupled with an intense desire to ripple through you, starting deep in the pit of your stomach. Impossibly, the nipple hardened even more, now a painful nub begging for Bucky’s touch.

Bucky’s mouth closed over your breast, suckling it hungrily. You arched your back, pushing yourself into his mouth, the ice cube in his hand circling the other nipple, melting quickly, the cold water rolling down your side. His teeth closed around the stiff bud, tugging it, biting it, the sensation making you cry out, your fingers twisting in the tie binding you to the bed. Jesus Christ, you wanted to touch him.

He grabbed another ice cube and closed his mouth over your breast again. The ice glided down your stomach and circled your belly button, Bucky’s mouth following it, nibbling, sucking, his tongue warm after the cold of the ice. He ran the ice along the edge of your underwear, teasing you, his lips always right there, his tongue lapping at the ice-cold water, his teeth gently nibbling at your sensitive skin. He pushed your underwear down and settled himself between your legs.

“I need you to take a deep breath, doll,” he murmured. “Can you do that for me?”

You nodded, then you sucked in a deep breath through your nose and just before you exhaled, Bucky touched the tip of the ice cube to the lips of your pussy, sliding it up and briefly pressing it against your clit. You yelped, the bite of the cold ice and the pressure on your clit was pain and pleasure combined into something you’d never imagined possible. Bucky immediately replaced the ice with the heat of his perfect mouth, sucking, nibbling, pushing you right up to the edge.

“Bucky,” you gasped, your hips rising towards his mouth, wanting more, desperate for more.

He put his hand in the middle of your stomach, just like he had the night before, pushing you back down onto the bed and pulling away. He licked his lips, a playful glint in his eyes. “Oh, doll, if you want to come you will lie still. Do you understand me?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered.

He slid his hand up your leg, the ice bringing goosebumps to the surface of your skin, then he pressed it against your clit, circling it once, twice, then pulling it away only to do it again, his lips on your stomach, drifting over your skin, kissing, sucking, biting, marking you as his.

Every cube of ice Bucky used melted quickly, your body so hot that the ice stood no chance against the heat you were creating. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, despite the frozen cubes rubbing against your skin. You weren’t sure how much longer you could hold out. Bucky’s teasing was like torture, unbelievably sinful torture. 

The torture only continued when he pushed your legs open and his mouth closed over you, his tongue deep inside you, taking you right back to the brink of orgasm. You were close, so close.

But he stopped. Again.

“Damn it, Bucky,” you groaned, jerking at your restraints.

Bucky nipped at your inner thigh, growling low in the back of his throat. “Lie still,” he ordered. “I mean it, sweetheart.”

You were panting, gasping as his lips moved over your thighs, kissing and nibbling as if his intent was to make you writhe with need. You squeezed your eyes closed and forced yourself not to move, even when two of Bucky’s fingers entered you, pumping fast and hard, his tongue flicking rapidly against your clit. One quick twist of his fingers and you were gone, the orgasm spreading from the pit of your stomach through your whole body, intense, white-hot heat exploding through every nerve.

Bucky worked you through the orgasm, not letting up until you were weak and trembling. He moved back up your body, his mouth, still wet with your slick, sliding over your sweat-drenched skin. He pressed a kiss to your mouth, then he sat up between your legs, reached past you and grabbed a condom from the drawer in the bedside table. He kicked off his boxers and slid the condom down his length. 

He pressed a kiss to your lips, then he lifted you and gently turned you over, careful to make sure you didn’t get hung up awkwardly in the binding holding you to the headboard. He repositioned you, pulling your ass into the air, your body weight supported on your elbows. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just a little awkward.

Bucky took hold of your hips, holding you in place as he eased into you, burying himself inside your warmth. You gasped, the sensation of Bucky inside of you, filling you so completely was making your head spin. His metal arm slipped around your waist, lifting you and holding you against him, his hand between your legs, his fingers on your clit, circling it as he thrust into you.

“Come on, doll,” he purred in your ear. “I want to feel you come again.”

Your body responded to his voice, convulsing around him as you climaxed again, gasping his name, your body and soul shattering into a million pieces. Bucky tensed behind you, his fingers digging into your hips, grunting as his own release swept over him.

He reached up and with one quick tug, released the tie binding you to the bed, then he rolled to his side, pulling you with him. You flexed your fingers, trying to get the blood flowing. Bucky took your hands in his and gently rubbed your wrists, his body curled around yours.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I think so, yeah,” you breathed.

He kissed the edge of your jaw before pushing himself off the bed. “I’ll be right back.” He pressed another kiss to your forehead, soft and gentle. He wasn’t gone long, only a couple of minutes, returning to your side with a bottle of water and one of his t-shirts. He helped you sit up and put the shirt on, then he handed you the bottle of water and sat down beside you.

You took the bottle and downed half of it in just a few swallows. You’d had no idea you were so thirsty until Bucky handed you the water. He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you to his side.

“You sure you’re alright?” he asked. “I didn’t hurt you?”

“I told you, I’m fine,” you said. “In fact, that was...it was unbelievable.”

“Mmm, you liked that, huh?” he chuckled.

“I did,” you nodded, your hands over your face, heat flooding your cheeks.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed or ashamed of anything you like,” Bucky whispered. He pulled your hands away from your face and kissed your forehead. “And never be ashamed to tell me if you  _ didn’t _ like something. This won’t work if we aren’t honest with each other.”

“I just...I feel like...there’s so much I don’t know, that I don’t understand,” you mumbled. “I can’t help but wonder if you really want to do this. Do you really want to spend all of your free time teaching me these… _ things _ ?”

“Sweetheart, I wouldn’t have asked you to do this if I didn’t want to,” he stated matter-of-factly. “It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve had to do it. Teaching is part of the arrangement. Granted, this is a little more extensive than I’m accustomed to, but I’m willing if you are.”

Something shifted in you, in the way you thought about this arrangement - as he called it. The realization that you were going to get hurt came over you. You knew it, you felt it in your bones. You weren’t sure he was capable of, interested in, or even willing to give any more than what this was. You knew you wanted more. So much more. But Bucky didn’t get involved, Bucky didn’t  _ do _ relationships. That much was common knowledge among everyone. Shit, he’d told you as much. You knew from your short time in the compound that the only person Bucky let in was Steve, period. They had a history, a friendship, that superseded everything else. You were going to have to sift through the mess of feelings and emotions already warring inside of you. The thought frightened you.

Unexpectedly, Bucky pulled you closer and kissed you softly, gently, so different from the take charge, in control man he’d been a few minutes ago. This seemed more like the Bucky you’d first met, sweet and caring, no pretenses, no desperate need for control. Just Bucky. 

Your hands were on his arms and you desperately wanted to run them over his bare chest, his shoulders, his scars, but you knew he wouldn’t like it, so instead, you slid them into his hair, tangling your fingers in the chestnut strands, and pulled out the rubber band he’d haphazardly put it, letting his hair fall across his face. 

“Why don’t you stay for a little while?” he murmured when you broke apart, his forehead against yours, his eyes closed.

“I thought you didn’t do sleepovers,” you smiled.

“I didn’t say sleepover,” he laughed. “I said to stay for a little while. I’ll walk you back to your room later.”

You nodded, hiding your grin behind your hand as Bucky pulled the blankets up and over the two of you. He rolled to his back, his metal hand resting on his stomach, his other arm thrown over his eyes, a contented sigh leaving him. You curled on your side, watching him, desperate for his warmth, to feel his heart beating under your hand, wishing he was okay with you cuddling up against his side After a few minutes, his breathing changed and you knew he was asleep.

You laid in the dark for a long time after that, watching Bucky sleep.


	4. Limits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky discuss limits. Bucky doesn’t care for your attitude.

You found Bucky on the shooting range, slaughtering paper targets. You slipped in the door and waited for him to finish emptying his gun. It didn’t take long.

He set the gun on the low table and took off his headphones. “Hey, doll,” he said, without even turning around. He began breaking down his gun, quickly and efficiently, not even looking at it.

“How’d you know it was me?” you asked.

He turned to look at you, one eyebrow raised. “Seriously?” he chuckled. “Trained assassin, remember?”

“Sorry,” you laughed. “Um, you got a minute?”

“I do,” he replied, turning around and leaning against the low table, arms crossed, watching you. “What’s up?”

“So, I’ve been doing some research.”

“Research?” Bucky repeated. “What kind of research?”

You had a feeling he was teasing you. “Bucky, please,” you sighed.

“Sorry,” he said, smirking. “Go ahead.”

“I’ve been researching dominants and submissives,” you continued. “Trying to get it all straight in my head. And, well, we never talked about what I’m - we’re - willing to do and not do.”

“I’m willing to do pretty much everything,” Bucky shrugged, a little too quickly for your liking.

“We’re not talking about you,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, imitating him.

“Don’t get huffy and snotty with me, Y/N,” Bucky growled. “And yes, it  _ is _ about me. You have to understand that for me, there aren’t many limits. This is who I am, what I do. It’s how I...how I maintain control.”

“Control over me?”

“Not necessarily,” he shook his head. “Over, well, everything. For years my control was taken away from me. The things I did -” He stopped, swallowed noticeably, and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I can’t let that happen anymore. In any aspect of my life. Period.” He took a couple of steps closer to you. “It’s not about hurting you, it’s not about causing you pain.” 

“It’s not?” you murmured.

“Not at all,” Bucky explained, shaking his head. “I swear, Y/N. I don’t do this because I want to cause you pain or hurt you. It’s merely about control.”

“Okay,” you sighed. “So, if you say, spank me, that’s not about causing me pain, but it’s merely about control.”

“Yes,” he nodded. “It’s about control, it’s about teaching you to obey me. And, it’s about pleasure. I know it seems weird, but spanking can be very...erotic. Pleasurable.”

Your stomach did a slow, lazy roll. “Do you...do you want to spank me?”

“Only if you want me to,” Bucky replied. “I will never do anything you don’t want me to do. You choose what your limits are.”

“My limits?” You weren’t sure what he meant.

“Yes, what you will and will not do. There are hard limits and soft limits. I’m sure in your research you probably saw some things you don’t want to try, right?”

You nodded. There were definitely things you’d seen that you didn’t want to try, things that actually scared you, things that, to you, looked more like abuse than anything sexual.

“Those things are considered your hard limits, things you absolutely will  _ not _ do,” Bucky explained. “Then there are soft limits, things that you’re unsure of, but you might eventually be willing to try.”

“So, if I tell you it’s a hard limit, we won’t do it?”

“That’s right,” Bucky said. “We won’t. And if it’s a soft limit, but you aren’t ready to try it, we can work up to it or we can wait until you feel like you’re ready. If you feel like you don’t want to try it all, we won’t. Okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled.

“Do you feel better?” he asked.

“Yes.” It was a simple answer, and yet, you could feel the tension go out of your shoulders and the weird twisting nerves in your stomach settle down.

“Good,” Bucky grinned. “Don’t be afraid to ask me about these things. I told you, we have to communicate in order for this to work. I don’t bite.”

“Sure you don’t,” you huffed again.

Bucky crossed the room in a couple of long strides, grabbed you by the upper arms, and dragged you up against his body. “I swear to God, Y/N, if you don’t cool it with the attitude, I  _ am _ going to spank you.”

“What attitude? I don’t have an attitude,” you whispered, grinning cheekily.

Bucky growled, his mouth slanting over yours, his arms sliding around you. His tongue probed at your mouth until you let him in, both of you moaning as the kiss deepened. You were panting when he finally released you. Bucky’s hand slid down your back and cupped your ass, squeezing hard.

“I really do want to spank this ass,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

“Maybe later,” you laughed, wriggling free of his embrace. “I’ll see you tonight.” You spun on your heel, yanked the door open, and hurried up the hall.

* * *

Later turned out to be much later than you expected. The team was called out to a terrorist threat in upper Manhattan and you had no idea when they would return. Just before they left, Bucky slipped his room key into your hand and told you to wait there for him.

“Yes, sir,” you replied, a smirk on your face.

“That’s my girl,” he chuckled. “Even though I know you’re being sarcastic.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek before boarding the quinjet, looking back over his shoulder as the door closed behind him.

You did as he asked, waiting in his apartment for him. You changed into your pajamas and crawled into his bed, your book in your hand. It was after midnight when you heard Bucky’s apartment door open and close, drawing you out of the light sleep you’d fallen into. You sat up and put your book on the table, just in time to see Bucky as he came into the bedroom and went straight into the bathroom, not even glancing your way, the shower coming on a few minutes later. You resisted the urge to join him, knowing he most likely had plans for you. He’d hinted at it enough before he’d left.

He wasn’t in the bathroom long, emerging after about ten minutes with a towel wrapped around his waist. He pushed a hand through his wet hair and gave you a weary smile.

“Hey, doll,” he said. “Sorry if I woke you.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured. “Tired?”

“A little,” he shrugged. “Mission got kind of crazy.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” he said, his tone firm, leaving no room for argument. He cleared his throat, his eyes drifting over you. “You did as I asked. I’m surprised.”

“Really?” you said. “You  _ told _ me to wait here for you.”

“Yes, I did,” he chuckled wryly. “But, you seem to have a tendency to disobey me.”

“Disobey you? As opposed to obeying you?” you laughed. “Is that what I’m supposed to do? Obey you?” You shook your head and rolled your eyes. “You know that sounds a little ridiculous.”

“There’s that attitude again,” Bucky murmured menacingly, stalking across the room and coming to a stop in front of you.

“Wh-what?” you stammered. “I don’t have an attitude.”

“Oh, but you do, doll,” he growled. “What did I say I would do if you didn’t cut out the attitude?”

“You said you’d spank me,” you whispered.

He leaned over you, one hand on either side of your head. “You’re mouthy, doll,” he smirked. “And it fucking turns me on.” His hand tangled in your hair, tugging hard enough to tip your head back. He pressed a hard, bruising kiss to your lips. “Are you okay with me spanking you?”

“Yes,” you breathed even as a shudder raced through you. You were okay with it and terrified by the thought of it all at the same time.

Bucky took your hand and pulled you to your feet, standing you in front of him. He yanked your shirt over your head and threw it aside, then he dropped the towel around his waist to the floor, sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled you into his lap, your ass in the air, his half-hard cock pressing against your stomach.

The fine hairs on his legs brushed against your nipples, bringing them to attention. He inched your underwear down your ass, baring it to him. He caressed you, softly, gently. You had just started to relax when he slapped your ass, hard.

You let out a startled yelp, but your surprise came more from the heat suddenly pooling in your stomach than the slap to your ass. A second later, another soft blow landed on the other cheek, stinging, but immediately followed by the rough caress of Bucky’s hand. He did it again, smacking the same ass cheek just as hard. He yanked your underwear the rest of the way off, practically ripping them from your body, tossing them to the floor on top of your shirt and his towel. 

Bucky’s metal hand slipped between your legs, one finger easily sliding into you. “Fuck, doll,” he groaned. “You’re so wet, so ready for me. You like it when I spank you, don’t you?” He added a second finger, pushing them deep inside of you, scissoring you open.

“Yes,” you gasped. “Jesus Christ, yes.” You were panting and moaning, rocking yourself back and forth on his probing fingers.

Bucky kissed a trail down your spine, his fingers still inside of you, thrusting deep, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

You gasped, your body jerking under the onslaught. “Oh god, Bucky, I’m gonna come.” You used your feet to rock yourself back and forth on his fingers, desperately trying to get yourself off, your orgasm within your grasp.

“Not until I say you can, doll,” he growled. He brought his other hand up, reaching across your body to lay a hard slap right in the middle of your ass, his fingers pressing against your sweet spot at the same time.

You gasped, your body jerking, the sting of the slap and the feel of Bucky’s fingers buried deep in your pussy pushing you right up to the edge. Just as you were about to come, Bucky released you, dragging you off of his lap and into his arms. He kissed you, your head in his hands, parting your lips with his tongue, deep and probing, devouring you, consuming you.

You wanted him so much it almost hurt. Your hands roamed over his body, his arms, his shoulders, across his stomach, caressing his scars.

Bucky broke off the kiss, grabbed your hands, and held them at your sides. His eyes had gone cold and angry, his mouth drawn down in a hard line. “Do  _ not _ touch my scars,” he ordered.

“Bucky, I -”

“That’s a hard limit for me, Y/N,” he snapped, cutting you off. “Period.”

“If you’d just tell me why..”

“It’s not open for discussion,” he muttered. “I won’t talk about it.”

You swallowed past the lump rising in your throat. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “Please don’t be angry with me.”

He released you, closed his eyes, and dragged a hand through his hair, taking several deep breaths. When he opened them, his expression had softened a little. He took a deep breath before speaking.

“I’m not angry,” he said. “You just...that’s the one rule you  _ have _ to obey.” He looked deep into your eyes. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded. “I’m sorry.”

Bucky nodded, caught your lips in his, and kissed you. He fell back on the bed, pulling you with him, shifting so you were beneath you, his hips moving subtly, his hard length pressing into your stomach. “Do you feel that, doll?” he murmured. “That’s the effect you have on me.”

You nodded, your stomach twisting deliciously at his words. Bucky rolled off of you and crawled to the head of the bed. He leaned against the headboard and crooked his finger at you. You obeyed immediately.

“Look at you,” he grinned. “You’re learning quickly.”

“I’m trying,” you laughed.

Bucky pulled you into his lap, his hands on your waist, drifting up and down your sides. You sighed and reached for him, your fingers brushing against his still damp hair, wanting to twist your fingers in it, but you hesitated, unsure whether or not he would allow it.

“It’s okay,” he whispered.

You dragged your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly, smiling as a growl rumbled out of him. He rested his hands on your waist, his hips tipping up and into yours. You rocked forward, groaning as his cock pulsed between the two of you and Bucky groaned. 

His hands slid up your sides to cup your breasts and he nuzzled his face between them, the scruff on his face scratching your sensitive skin. His lips closed around your nipple, sucking it between his teeth.

You moaned, digging your knees into the bed on either side of his hips, your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him to your breast, grinding your hips against him. He pushed a hand between your legs, his finger pressed against your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub of nerves, making you squirm.

“Condoms are in the dresser drawer,” he whispered in your ear. 

You reached over, opened the drawer, and pulled out a condom, then you settled yourself between his knees. You ran your hand up the inside of his leg and took hold of him, stroking him slowly. Bucky’s mouth dropped open as he drew in a sharp breath. You opened the foil packet, took the condom out, and slid it down his hard shaft, reveling in the look of pure pleasure on his face, continuing to stroke him even after the condom covered him.

“Enough,” he growled. “I’m not gonna last much longer. Get up here.”

You did as he ordered, quickly straddling him. The realization that you had no idea what you were doing suddenly dawned on you. You could only stare at him, apprehensive and unsure, frozen in place. You felt ridiculous.

“Bucky...I...uh…”

He cut you off, his lips on yours, kissing you as he lifted you up. He positioned you over him and guided himself to your entrance, a sharp gasp leaving you as the tip of his cock brushed against the lips of your pussy. He moved slowly, helping you, teaching you, showing you what you needed to do.

You braced your hands on the headboard and lowered yourself onto his thick cock, tiny moans of pleasure falling from your lips, getting louder as he filled you. The angle was perfect, the feel of him buried deep inside you the best feeling in the world. You rocked forward, your walls fluttering around him, a muffled ‘fuck’ leaving him once he was seated completely inside you.

Bucky dug his fingers into your hips, hard enough to leave bruises you would see the next day. He started slow, guiding you, showing you how to move, taking his time, infinitely patient with you. After a few minutes, he let out a strangled groan and began to move faster, setting a punishing rhythm, pulling you down onto him, driving deep into you at a maniacal pace.

The sensations rolling through your body were insanely powerful, causing starbursts of white light to explode behind your closed eyes and hot pinpricks of pleasure in every nerve ending. When Bucky yanked you forward, his pelvic bone pressing against your clit, the orgasm took you by surprise, sudden and quick, screaming through you, drowning you in inexplicable bliss. The air rushed from your lungs and your vision went black. Bucky held you in place, a guttural groan emanating from deep in his chest, his cock pulsing inside of you as he came.

You sagged against the headboard, wanting nothing more than curl up on Bucky’s chest and go to sleep, but unsure if he would allow it. Instead, you moved to climb off of him, but he grabbed your hips, rolled to his side and held you in the circle of his arms. He kissed your forehead.

You rested your cheek against his chest, inches from his scars, afraid to move or breathe, fearing it would anger him and he would push you away. But he held you close, his lips pressed to the top of your head. Your head was spinning, your heart trapped in a whirlwind of emotion. The things Bucky made you feel were intense, crazy, wonderful, and quite frankly, frightening. You knew you should be terrified, nervous, and maybe even scared, but you weren’t. You loved every minute you spent with Bucky. You couldn’t wait to see what else he had in store for you.


	5. Dinner Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky attend a dinner party at Stark Tower.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” you asked.

Bucky was perched on the end of your bed, watching you as you got dressed, his eyes roving over your body, drinking you in. 

“Are you?” he murmured. 

“I just think that taking me to a dinner party in the city is kind of making us official,” you shrugged.

“Officially what?” Bucky chuckled. 

“I don’t know,” you muttered. “Are we dating? Having sex? Friends with benefits? What exactly are we, Bucky?” 

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “How would  _ you _ describe us, Y/N?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “I guess friends with benefits is the best description.” You didn’t like the queasy feeling rising from the pit of your stomach at your choice of words. “But don’t you think everyone will assume otherwise when we show up together? That they’ll assume we’re a couple?”

“It doesn’t matter what they think or what they assume,” he shrugged. “All that matters is what we think. Let them assume whatever they want.”

You straightened your dress one last time and turned around to face Bucky. He gave you a warm smile, then he gestured for you to come to him. You walked the few short steps to stand in front of him, your fingers twisting nervously in the seams of your dress.

He stared up at you as he slowly rose to his feet. He put his hands on your waist and dragged you closer, his lips drifting across yours. “You look beautiful,” he murmured. “Good enough to eat.”

“Bucky,” you giggled.

“I’m serious, doll,” he said. “You know what? I’d rather stay here and take you apart very, very slowly until you’re begging me to come. I would much rather do that than go to some stupid dinner party at Stark Tower.”

You swallowed around the lump rising in your throat and took his hand, your body on fire just from his words alone. You pushed up on your toes and kissed him, your tongue tracing his lower lip, your fingers tangling together with his. “Maybe we should do that instead,” you whispered.

“God, I’d love to, but Steve would kick my ass,” he chuckled. “I promised I wouldn’t bail on him. We gotta go.”

“Why?” you whined.

Bucky tucked his finger under your chin. “Because we told Tony we’d be there. And, Steve thinks we can use this little trip to test security before you testify.”

You sighed. You tried not to think about testifying or witness protection or any of the things that came with it. Thinking about it inevitably led to thinking about how one day, you would have to leave Bucky. That was something you never wanted to think about.

“Come, let’s go,” he said, holding his hand out to you.

He led you through the compound and outside to the vehicles waiting in the curved driveway. He opened the back door of the second SUV, helping you inside before climbing in behind you. Steve appeared a few minutes later and slid behind the wheel, while Sam took the passenger seat.

You shifted nervously in your seat, tugging at your skirt and crossing your legs. You were a nervous wreck; after all, you were about to have dinner with the majority of the Avengers, including Tony Stark, who intimidated the hell out of you, Bucky’s best friends, Captain America and the Falcon, not to mention the Black Widow, the Scarlet Witch, and Hawkeye. And every single one of them would be judging you. Not only were you the woman who had worked for a traitor, but you were sleeping with the Winter Soldier.

Bucky peered down at you, his arm thrown casually over the back of the seat, the fingertips on his metal hand brushing your shoulder. You tried to smile at him, but you were afraid it came off as more of a grimace.

“You sure we can’t just stay here?” you whispered so only he could hear you.

Bucky smiled, but he shook his head and mouthed no. He put his hand on your knee and kissed your cheek. 

“It’ll be fun, I promise,” he murmured in your ear. “You’ll see.”

* * *

The ride into the city was relatively low key; the banter between the three friends kept you laughing for most of the trip. You found it interesting that neither Steve nor Sam commented on the rather obvious fact that you and Bucky were dating - for lack of a better word - though you did notice a couple of bemused glances exchanged among the trio. You were sure Bucky would get the third degree later.

“Are you ready for this?” Bucky asked you as Steve pulled into the parking garage of Stark Tower.

You nodded, smiling uneasily. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Wait here,” he said, pushing open the door.

You breathed a sigh of relief as soon as the three men exited the SUV, closing their doors behind themselves. Bucky had spent the entire trip into the city with his hand on your upper thigh, his fingers lightly caressing you, driving you wild with need. You had no idea how he could sit there and act as if nothing were happening. Not only that, but being in a car with three overprotective men had reminded you that you were in constant danger and that this trip into the city had surely been a logistical nightmare for the Avengers. Keeping you safe was a high priority and easy to do at the compound. It hadn’t occurred to you until right then how much work had gone into planning this trip.

The door beside you opened, startling you, a breathy squeak leaving you.

“You okay, Y/N?” Steve asked, helping you to the ground.

“I’m fine,” you grumbled. “You just scared me.”

“Sorry,” Steve laughed. “Didn’t mean to.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I just...sometimes I forget about...everything, and when it comes back to me, it...bothers me, you know?”

“Understandable,” Steve said.

Bucky came around the back of the car, his hand held out for you to take. You took it and followed the men to the elevator where Steve punched in a code, bringing it to the garage level. Once inside, you pulled your hand out of Bucky’s and backed yourself into a corner, hoping to get some space, a step or two away from Bucky to catch your breath. He let you go, but his eyes never left yours, the smug smirk dancing across his lips making you want to punch him in his perfect face. Fortunately, the elevator came to a stop before you could follow through with that thought.

Tony and Pepper were standing outside of the elevator when you emerged. You’d been working with Pepper for a few weeks, so she didn’t hesitate to greet you, pulling you into a warm hug. Tony shook your hand and smiled at you, welcoming you to the Tower. You’d never visited the Tower; in fact, you hadn’t left the compound for more than a month. Pepper took your hand and dragged you after her into an impeccably decorated living room - floor to ceiling windows, marble floors, beautiful leather furniture, and obviously expensive knick-knacks almost haphazardly scattered about. Tony went straight to the bar, offering drinks all around.

Bucky stuck fairly close to you, never more than a few steps away; you did your best to ignore the fact that he was hovering, making small talk with Steve and Sam, or Pepper and Tony, or the party from the other SUV, Clint, Nat, and Wanda. Every time you looked Bucky’s way, his eyes were on you, eating you alive. You could feel their weight almost constantly.

It wasn’t long before dinner was ready. You followed Pepper and Tony, falling in step with Bucky, his arm sliding possessively around your waist. He pressed a kiss to your temple and squeezed your hip. Once you were in the dining room, Bucky pulled out a chair for you, three seats to the right of Tony and across from Pepper, then he took the seat beside you, while Steve sat next to him. Natasha eased into the seat across from Bucky, her green eyes locked on his. 

You were a bundle of nerves, while Bucky seemed completely at ease. Natasha was talking to him, engaging him in conversation, leaning forward, elbows on the table, her focus entirely on him and him alone. Something about their interaction didn’t sit right with you, something about it made you uneasy. You tried to ignore it and follow along with the conversation, though it proved to be difficult, thanks to Bucky’s hand caressing your leg, sliding up under your skirt.

The conversation at the table turned to sports, baseball, of course. Bucky and Steve were Yankee fans, while Tony favored the Dodgers. Sam interjected a few times, throwing out his recently acquired love of the Washington Nationals. You couldn’t understand how Bucky could carry on a conversation when his hand was on your legs, his fingers dangerously close to touching you; the teasing was driving you insane with need. You had no idea how he was able to carry on a conversation, and so calmly nonetheless.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Bucky smirking. You wanted to punch him in his perfect face. By the time dinner was over and dessert was served, you were a mess of want and desire, desperate for Bucky to take away this insatiable need for him.

“How about I show you around the tower?” Bucky asked, leaning over to whisper in your ear. “You can see where we all lived before the compound was built.”

You nodded, excused yourself, and followed Bucky through the penthouse to a set of stairs obscurely placed on the far side of the living room. You went down several flights, finally emerging into a huge room, apparently a gym of some sort.

Bucky wove his way through the equipment, coming to a stop in front of a door tucked in the back corner of the room. He reached to the top of the door jamb, grabbed a key, and unlocked the door. He pulled you inside and shut the door behind you, throwing the lock.

The room seemed to be a combination of an office and a small bedroom; there was a desk and chair, along with a filing cabinet in one corner, and a small couch, pulled out into a neatly made bed opposite the desk. The walls were bare, no mementos, no personal effects, everything starkly institutional.

“What is this?” you murmured.

“This is - was - my room when I first moved into the Tower,” Bucky explained. He leaned against the edge of the desk, arms crossed, metal hand clenching and unclenching against his bicep as he spoke. “I couldn’t stomach being in one of the plush suites Stark calls a room. It was too...much. I was used to next to nothing or worse, being in a cryogenic freeze for months or years on end. I needed something familiar, suited to my mindset. This was all Stark had to offer.”

You circled the room, picturing Bucky alone in this room, no one with him, no one to love him, to care about him. It made your heart hurt to think of it. You stopped in front of him, your eyes locked on his, unable to look away.

He held his hand out. “Come here,” he ordered.

You took his hand and let him pull you into his arms. He ducked his head and caught your lips in his, the kiss soft and gentle at first, just a brush of his lips over yours, though it quickly changed, became something deeper, something more. Bucky’s hands slid down your sides, his hands on your ass, dragging you against his hard body, holding you so tight you thought you might break. When he finally released you, you were both gasping for air.

“You drive me nuts, doll,” he murmured. “I don’t know what it is about you, but you get me all twisted around and I forget what I’m doing, where I’m at, even what I want. What are you doing to me?”

You shrugged one shoulder and smiled at him. “Maybe it’s because I don’t give in to all of your demands?” you teased.

“You do like to argue with me,” he chuckled. “Which drives me crazy.”

You took several steps back, pulling yourself free of his embrace. “Does it make you want to spank me?”

“Don’t toy with me, Y/N,” he growled. “You know every time you question me, every time you argue with me, that’s exactly what I want to do.”

“Are you going to spank me?” you whispered, the thought of it sending a delicious tingle of excitement racing through you.

"Not right now," he murmured. "Maybe later, when we're truly alone and I can take my time with you." He closed the distance between you, so quick you didn’t even realize he’d moved until his chest was pressed against yours and his warm breath was on your face. His arms snaked around your waist. “What I am going to do is fuck you on that bed behind you.”

Your breath quickened and your heart skipped a beat, your legs clenching due to the sudden rush of desperate need Bucky elicited in you. He pushed you down onto the lumpy hide-a-bed, then he yanked open his pants before he leaned over you. “On your knees, doll,” he commanded as he took a condom from the pocket of his jeans. He shoved his hand into his jeans and pulled his cock free, pumping himself several times before sliding the condom down his length. “We don’t have long, so this is gonna have to be quick.”

You quickly rolled to your knees, your ass in the air. He pushed your dress up around your waist and yanked your panties down, leaving them dangling off of one of your feet.

Bucky pulled your hips up so he could ease into you, unhurried, gentle, giving you time to adjust. That only lasted a moment and then he was slamming into you, burying himself to the root, groaning as you took every substantial inch of him. You twisted your fingers in the blankets on the bed, holding on for dear life, every thrust from Bucky pushing you forward, the small sofa bed scraping along the floor from the force of his movements.

“That’s my girl, Y/N,” he grunted. “This is what you want, isn’t it, baby? Me fucking you, you taking everything I have to give you. Such a good girl.” He ran his hand up your back and into your hair, twisting his fingers in it, yanking your head back, bending over you, his lips assaulting yours, his tongue shoving into your mouth, the kiss like nothing you’d experienced before.

He bit at your lips as he pounded into you, his fingers in your hair, one hand on your hip, his breath hot against your face, his body a hulking weight pressed against you. You closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the euphoria of the orgasm taking you over.

Bucky hit your sweet spot with every tip of his hips, driving you nearly insane with the sheer pleasure he was pulling from you. He yanked you backward, slamming deep one last time, holding you tight against him, his entire body going stiff, grunting as he came.

Once he finally released you, you fell to the sofa bed, face first, moaning. You rolled to your back, scrambling to pull your dress back into place, your eyes on Bucky. He tossed the used condom in a nearby trash can and tucked himself back into his jeans. Even though you'd just been with him, you ached for him, wanted him again and again and again. Apparently, you couldn’t get enough of Bucky Barnes.

“Bucky!” Steve shouted from somewhere outside the locked door.

Bucky turned, his eyebrows raised, a smirk on his face. “Just in time,” he winked.

You giggled as you hastily pulled your underwear on, straightened your clothes, and tried to fix your sex-mussed hair, then you jumped to your feet to join Bucky.

“In here, Steve,” he called, striding across the room to unlock the door. 

“Hey, we’re getting ready to head out,” Steve smiled as he stepped through the door. “You two about ready to go?”

“I think Y/N has seen enough,” Bucky said without missing a beat, completely poker-faced. “Let’s go say goodbye to everyone.” He turned to follow Steve, pushing you in front of him, swatting your behind.

You bit your lip to hold back the gasp of surprise, shooting him a dirty look over your shoulder.

“I will do it again, doll, and soon,” he whispered close to your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple.

The two of you followed Steve upstairs, where you and Bucky said your goodbyes, along with Sam and Steve, then you took the elevator back down to the parking garage, your hand held loosely in Bucky’s. You were tired and you wanted to sleep, but you also wanted Bucky, a feeling you were quickly becoming accustomed to. He was like a drug and you were the addict. You were falling for him and you were falling fast. The thought scared the shit out of you.

Bucky helped you into the car, pulling you into his arms, your head on his shoulder. He rested his head against yours, his lips close to your ear.

“You okay, doll?” he whispered. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Just thinking,” you replied.

“About?” Bucky asked.

“Us,” you murmured.

“Why? Are you having second thoughts?”

“Maybe,” you sighed.

Bucky shifted in his seat to look at you, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

You stared at your hands, clenched tightly in your lap. You weren’t sure what to say. Should you tell him you thought you might be falling in love with him? Should you tell him that sometimes he frightened you, that you were afraid to touch him, to show him affection because you were afraid you would anger him or somehow push him away?

“Y/N? Answer me.” Bucky demanded quietly.

You scrubbed a hand over your face and stared out the car window. How had things gotten so complicated, so fast? You were afraid to lose him, because despite everything, despite his crazy sexual demands, his desperate need for control, and everything that came with dating an assassin turned supersoldier, you wanted him. You felt alive when you were with Bucky. He was sexy, gorgeous, funny in his own quirky way, and unbelievably sweet. But more than that, he was a mystery you wanted to unravel. You squeezed your eyes closed. You didn’t know what to say. You were falling in love with him and it scared you. You weren't sure he could ever give you what you wanted, what you craved from him - love and affection. You saw glimpses of the possibility, but you weren't sure that it was something Bucky was capable of doing.

“I want more,” you finally whispered, shrugging.

Bucky took your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I know,” he said. “What if I tell you I promise to try?”

You blinked up at him, surprised. You weren’t sure you’d heard him correctly. “Wh-what did you say?”

“For you, doll, I’ll try,” he repeated, the sincerity of his words evident in the tone of his voice.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, long and hard. Of course, he responded, dragging his hands up your sides to cup your face, his metal thumb brushing at the unexpected tears sliding down your cheeks.

“I’ll try, too,” you promised. “The limits, your rules, all of it, whatever you want.”

Bucky chuckled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You rested your head on his shoulder again, your arm around his waist, careful to keep still, always conscious of the scars he didn’t want to be touched. You nuzzled up against him, your eyes closed, your nose at his throat, drinking in his masculine scent, a scent that made you heady with desire. You felt yourself drifting, in and out of sleep, Bucky’s breathing, along with Steve and Sam’s voices murmuring softly from the front seat, lulled you into a state of semi-consciousness.

Bucky shook you gently when the car pulled to a stop in the compound’s circular drive, then he helped you from the car, picking you up and setting you on your feet. You waved goodbye to Steve and Sam then you followed Bucky inside. 

You obediently followed him through the halls, expecting him to take you to his room, but instead, he made his way to the back of the compound, coming to a stop in front of your door.

“You’re tired, Y/N. You need to get some sleep.” He kissed you, his tongue delicately tracing your lower lip.

“I don’t need sleep,” you whispered. “I need you. Come inside with me.”

Bucky groaned, but he held his ground, pushing you away, his hands on your upper arms. “Get some sleep, doll,” he growled. He brushed his lips lightly across yours one more time before sauntering off down the hallway.


	6. A Serious Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an interesting evening spent with Natasha and Wanda, you and Bucky have a serious conversation.

You’d been drinking, a lot, a girls-only night spent with Natasha and Wanda. You hadn’t expected to be invited, so when Wanda swung by Pepper’s office to ask you if you’d like to hang out with them, watch movies, and have margaritas, you’d been surprised. You’d been quick to agree.

The three of you settled into the main living area, barring anyone from coming in, no matter how much they’d begged. Natasha had even sent Bucky and Steve on their way, refusing to let them in. Bucky had shot you a questioning look in your direction over Nat’s shoulder, but all you could do was shrug and smile.

Of course, the questions had started almost immediately after they left, Wanda leading the interrogation, while Natasha sat back with an indecipherable look on her face, one perfectly shaped eyebrow quirked in perpetual confusion. Were you and Bucky a “thing?” How long had it been going on? Did you have feelings for him? Did he have feelings for you? Question after question until you thought your head would explode. You gave the vaguest answers possible, while still trying to appease the girls. They’d seemed satisfied, though Nat kept tossing questioning glances your way until you couldn’t stand it anymore. As soon as Wanda excused herself to go to the restroom, you turned to the redheaded assassin.

“What’s the matter, Natasha?” you asked. “I can tell something is bugging you. What is it you want to know?”

Romanoff rolled her eyes and blew out a breath, her bangs lifting slightly from the movement of air. “Okay, but don’t be mad or offended, okay?”

“Okay,” you dragged the word out, uncertain if you could keep that promise. You had a feeling no matter what she said, it would either offend you  _ or _ make you mad. If not both.

“Why you?” she asked. “How on earth did someone like you end up with someone like Bucky?”

“What?” you mumbled, trying to keep the irritation you were feeling out of your voice. “What exactly do you mean?”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “Bucky’s a dominant, Y/N. You know that, right?”

You swallowed around the lump in your throat and nodded. “Y-you know that he’s a dom?” you whispered. How the hell did she know that?

Nat waved her hand as if the question were ridiculous. “Of course I know,” she shrugged. “My point is, are you sure you can handle that and everything it means?”

“I seem to be holding my own,” you replied, your tone icy. “Bucky doesn’t seem to have a problem with me.”

“We’ll see,” she muttered, her mouth snapping shut when Wanda breezed through the door.

Two movies and several pitchers of margaritas later, you were on your way back to your room for the night. Your head was still spinning from your discussion with Nat and all the questions it had brought to the forefront of your brain. First and foremost, how did Natasha know Bucky was a dominant and why did she seem to think you couldn’t handle him? You were so busy examining those questions over and over that when you rounded the corner near your room, you ran right into Bucky.

You stumbled and fell against him, a startled gasp escaping you. “H-hi,” you stammered.

“Hi,” he chuckled, his arm sliding around your waist, hugging you close. “You okay, doll?”

“I’m...uh...I think I’m a little drunk,” you giggled. At least it wasn’t going to be like the last time Bucky had seen you drunk.

“Where are you going?” Bucky asked.

“Back to my room,” you replied.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he laughed. “Come back to mine. You can sleep it off in my bed.” He caught your hand in his and led you back down the hall to his room. He, too, was probably remembering what had happened the last time you’d had too much to drink. Once you were inside, Bucky kicked the door closed behind himself, turned to you, and placed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I get to sleep over?” you whispered.

“Mm, I guess so,” he smiled. “Big step for me. I told you, I’m trying.”

You rested your head against his chest and closed your eyes. You loved it when he held you; being in his arms made you feel safe for the first time in two years.

“Come lie down,” he murmured, guiding you to the bed.

You kicked off your shoes, slipped off your jeans, and stretched out on the bed in just your t-shirt and underwear, your arm thrown over your eyes. Bucky crawled in beside you, his hand on your waist, then he was pushing your shirt up, exposing your stomach, his lips warm and soft as they moved over your skin.

“Bucky,” you mumbled. “What are you doing?”

“I missed you,” he whispered. “I spent the whole day thinking about all the things I wanted to do to you, then when I think I can finally get you alone, you run off with the other women for a girls night and ruin all my plans.” He slid down your body until his head was between your legs, his hands on your inner thighs, pushing them open with one hand, the fingers of his other hand twisting in your underwear. He slid his nose up your inner thigh, opened his mouth and nudged at your still clothed sex with his lips and tongue.

An obscene groan left you, your back arching, your fingers twisting in Bucky’s hair as he maneuvered your underwear down your legs and off, his lips barely leaving your skin. His mouth and hands moved over your thighs, caressing them, kneading, biting, sucking, driving you out of your mind, your head spinning from the combination of alcohol and desire. He slid his hands up your legs and nibbled at your outer lips before using his fingers to spread them open and slip his tongue deep inside you. He nuzzled your clit with his nose as he lapped at your entrance, humming in satisfaction.

You couldn’t hold back the salacious moan of pleasure that erupted from your mouth as Bucky worked his magic, his mouth doing things to you that completely tore you apart. He slid his hands under your ass, lifting you closer to those sinful lips of his, his tongue swiping over that one spot guaranteed to make you come undone.

It must have been the alcohol that loosened your tongue, a litany of moans and groans leaving you, pure filth pouring out of your mouth. You squirmed, pushing yourself against his face, your hips gyrating, one hand on the back of Bucky’s head, the other hand over your mouth in a poor attempt to hold back your screams of pleasure.

You came, hard, whimpering as Bucky coaxed you through your orgasm, his fingers digging into your hips, his tongue so deep inside of you that his face was pressed flush against your body, his head moving from side to side as he got you off over and over again. 

When Bucky finally pulled away, you were a boneless mess, your body limp, chest heaving, stars still bursting behind your eyes. He crawled up your body, hovering over you and kissing you, his lips still wet with your slick. You moaned as he kissed you, his tongue dancing across your lips. 

“You need some water, doll,” he smiled. “And some Advil or something. Otherwise, you’re gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.” He climbed off the bed and disappeared out the door, returning a few minutes later with a glass of water and a couple of pills. You forced yourself to sit up and take them from him, leaning against the headboard when the room started to spin.

Bucky sat on the end of the bed, watching you. “Did you have fun with Romanoff and Wanda?” he asked.

“Yes,” you nodded. “It was nice of them to invite me.” Even though you felt like you’d gotten the third degree from Nat, not that you would mention that to Bucky.

“It was,” he nodded. “I’m glad they did. God knows Wanda could use a friend -”

You stared up at Bucky, not really listening to what he was saying, a question on your lips, a question you were afraid to ask, but the alcohol you’d had earlier had apparently obliterated the filter between your mouth and your head. 

“Did you have sex with Natasha?” you blurted, interrupting whatever it was he’d been saying.

He stared impassively at you, his face unreadable, silent, hard. You stared back, not budging. You wanted an answer.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Bucky nodded, just a tip of his chin really, but enough to be an answer.

You bit your lip and dropped your gaze. Of course, he’d slept with Natasha; she was stunning, confident, and vibrant, while you were the polar opposite of that. 

Bucky cleared his throat and bumped your leg with his. “Look at me, Y/N,” he ordered.

You did as you were told, raising your head to look at the man you were half in love with sitting across from you.

“Yes, I had sex with Nat,” he said. “But what we had didn’t last long, only a couple of months. We mutually decided it wouldn’t work between us, so we broke it off. Now, we’re friends. Nothing more.”

“She-she wasn’t into the dominant, submissive thing?” you asked, almost afraid to hear his answer.

Bucky shook his head, a laugh bursting out of him. “Not exactly,” he answered. “Look, you can’t tell her I told you this, but Nat’s a dom, too. It didn’t work for either of us, not when we both need to be in control.”

“Did you...did you love her?” you whispered.

“She’s my friend, Y/N,” he murmured.

“That’s not what I asked,” you muttered. “Did you love her? And does she love you?”

“I love her like a friend,” Bucky shrugged. “As for her loving me? I don’t think so, not like that, not like you mean.” He frowned, as if he hadn’t thought about it until just now. “It’s in the past. I can’t change it, so I don’t worry about it.” He ran a hand through his hair and blew out an exasperated breath. “I never talk about stuff like this, Y/N.”

“Talk about what?” you asked.

“I never talk about my past relationships. And the only reason I’m talking about it now, with you, is because I need you to trust me. And I promised you I would try to make this work.”

“I do trust you,” you murmured. “But I want to know you better. It’s part of both of us trying.”

“I am trying,” Bucky sighed.

You couldn’t stand the distance between you; even though he was only at the end of the bed, you felt like he was on the other side of the universe. The multitude of margaritas you’d had must have made you brave, because you launched yourself across the bed and clambered into his lap, your hands on his waist. Bucky stiffened and eyed you warily.

“Don’t be mad at me,” you whispered.

“I’m not mad at you, doll,” he sighed. “I’m just not used to discussing this kind of stuff. I’ve only talked to a few people about...how I am...just Steve and -” His mouth snapped closed.

“Natasha?” you prodded. “You’ve talked to her?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “I-I still do.”

“About what?” you asked.

“I don’t want to discuss this anymore,” he snapped. “Natasha is my friend and a colleague. Nothing more. Our past doesn’t matter. That part of our relationship is over. Period. End of discussion.”

You nodded weakly. “Okay,” you sighed. “Can I ask you one more question, though? I promise it’s not about Nat, though it was something she said to me.”

Bucky snorted, but he nodded and muttered “fine” under his breath.

“Why me?”

Bucky’s head tipped to one side, opened his mouth, and then closed it again. “What do you mean, why you?”

“I mean, why me? Why are we doing this?” You gestured between the two of you. “Why choose me when you could have literally any woman on earth? For God’s sake, you were with Natasha, and now you’re with...well, me. That’s a serious step down.”

Bucky grabbed your hands, leaning closer, his chest hitting yours, his blue eyes flashing with anger. “That’s bullshit,” he growled. “I chose you.” 

“But why did you choose me? I’m sure I’m not the only one curious about that. I mean, Nat is. She even asked me.”

“What did she ask you?”

“She wanted to know how someone like me ended up with someone like you,” you murmured.

Bucky’s entire body tensed, his hands clamping down on your hips. “God damn it,” he growled. “I’m gonna kick her ass.”

“No, please don’t,” you said, shaking your head. “It’s okay, really. It just got me thinking -”

Bucky gently cupped your chin in his hands and brushed a kiss over your lips. “I can’t explain it, doll. You’ve done something to me, caused this shift that came out of nowhere and surprised me. I don’t know how you managed it, but you did. I want you. Why I want you doesn’t matter. Only that I do.”

Overcome with emotion, you pressed your face against the side of Bucky’s neck, tears springing to your eyes. 

Bucky crushed you to his chest, pulling you down onto the bed beside him, tearing off your shirt and bra, tossing them over the side of the bed. His hands and mouth were everywhere, his touch practically burning your skin, his breath heavy in your ear as he whispered how much he needed you, how much he wanted you while you were only able to nod and breathe out the occasional yes.

His hand was between your legs, his fingers seeking out the wet heat, pushing in past the second knuckle, his body pressed tight against your side, his warmth surrounding you, his cock hard against your thigh. He caressed your inner walls, his fingers moving with calm assurance, easily finding every little thing that made your body tremble with desire.

Bucky rolled you to your back and pushed himself to his knees. He pulled off his clothes, taking a condom from his jeans pocket before throwing them on the floor. He eased one arm around your waist and lifted you, nestling himself between your legs, his cock sliding into you, stretching you, filling you completely. He caught your lips in his, kissing you, a deep kiss that claimed you as his.

You wrapped your legs around his thighs, your hands on his ass, raising your hips to meet every one of his thrusts, urging him to go harder, deeper, faster. You could feel your orgasm building, your skin tingling, sweat breaking out all over your body, your breath catching in your throat as the sensations rolled through you. You let go with a shuddering moan of Bucky’s name, head thrown back and eyes shut as the pleasure took over.

It was intense, unbelievably intense, every touch loaded with hidden meaning, every kiss a promise of more. He took your hands in his, pulled them over your head, your fingers laced with his, holding them as he thrust into you over and over, kissing you like he couldn’t get enough of you.

Another kiss, a few more thrusts, and Bucky was coming, his body tensing, his hands squeezing yours as his own orgasm took him. He kissed you just before he fell to your side, your hands still in his, your legs tangled together, his face buried between your neck and shoulder, occasionally kissing your neck.

You’d thought maybe he’d fallen asleep until he pushed himself up, balancing on his elbows, his face inches from yours. He brushed his thumb over your lower lip, then he leaned over and kissed you.

“You need to get some rest, doll,” he said. “You’ve had a lot to drink and a lot of physical activity.”

You stretched, rolled to your stomach, and pulled one of his pillows under your head. “Sleep sounds amazing,” you sighed, your eyes slipping closed. Bucky was right; you’d had a lot to drink, you were exhausted, and you could use some sleep. You were almost asleep when Bucky leaned over and pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“I needed that,” he whispered. Another kiss. “I needed you.”

“Mmm,” you hummed, intertwining your fingers with his, no longer able to keep your eyes open. You wanted to say more, to talk about what Bucky had just said, but sleep took you.


	7. Petunias

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky takes your sexual training to a new level.

Bucky was nowhere to be seen when you woke up, a mild headache thumping at your temples, your mouth feeling as if it were stuffed with cotton. You sat up, the sheet held to your chest. You’d slept like you were dead, not even waking when Bucky apparently left. It left you feeling groggy and out of sorts. A quick glance at the clock told you it was almost noon. You wondered if Pepper had been looking for you, the thought getting you to move. You kicked off the blankets and climbed out of bed. It took you a few minutes to gather together all of your clothes and pull them on, then you picked up your shoes and left Bucky’s apartment, hurrying through the compound to your own room. You showered, which made you feel at least halfway human, then you pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt. You were starving by the time you were dressed, so you made your way back through the halls to the nearest common room.

Wanda smiled at you as you walked through the door. You stopped dead in your tracks, amazed at the food laid out in front of you. Someone had been busy; there were pancakes, eggs, bacon, muffins, juice, and milk, as well as fresh fruit, oatmeal, and a huge carafe of coffee. You made yourself a plate and a huge mug of coffee, then you eased into the chair beside Wanda.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Tired,” you muttered.

“I stopped by your room last night to see if you needed anything, but you weren’t there,” Wanda said, trying and failing to act nonchalant.

“I was with Bucky,” you mumbled.

She nudged you with her elbow, a huge grin spreading across her face. “You two are good for each other,” she said. “I think I’ve seen Bucky smile more in the past month than I saw him smile in the last year.”

You hid the smile on your face with your coffee cup, but your heart was soaring. You glanced at Wanda out of the corner of your eye. “Thank you, Wanda,” you whispered. “I needed to hear that.”

Just then, Tony strode through the door, snagging an apple from the counter as he passed it, then he set a cell phone on the table in front of you.

“What’s this?” you asked, picking it up and examining it.

“It’s a phone,” Tony said.

“I know that,” you grumbled. “What’s it for? I never go anywhere. I’m stuck in the compound.”

“Bucky asked me to get it for you,” Tony shrugged. “He wanted you to have it. Who am I to argue with a former assassin?” He spun around and disappeared back out the door.

You picked up the phone and opened the screen. You already had a text message from Pepper, informing you that she was in the city for the day and you could have the day to yourself. You wondered who else had the number.

As if on cue, the phone rang in your hand, Bucky’s name on the screen. You answered it, turning away from Wanda to talk.

“H-hello?”

“You got your phone?” he asked.

“I did,” you replied. “Obviously.”

“Good,” he said. “What are you doing?”

“Eating breakfast.”

“Are you working today?” he murmured.

“N-no, um...Pepper’s in the city.”

“Great. Come to my room when you’re done eating.” His tone left no room for argument and before you could reply, he disconnected the call.

“You okay?” Wanda asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you nodded.

Wanda raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t argue with you, instead, she started asking you about your work with Pepper, questions about your time with the Senator, and when you were set to testify. You had no idea how much time passed before your new phone vibrated beside your elbow.

_I’m waiting_.

You closed your eyes for a second and tried to catch your breath, then you stood up, calmly pushed in your chair, and told Wanda you’d see her later. You took your time moving through the halls, refusing to give in to your overwhelming desire to run to Bucky. His room was at the end of the hall, the door opened just a few inches, low jazz playing quietly. You stepped inside and pushed the door closed, leaning against it for a second to get your bearings. Once your heart had stopped racing, you headed for the bedroom.

Bucky stood at the end of the bed in just a pair of black boxer briefs, his back to the door. You paused for a minute to watch him, to remind yourself that the lithe supersoldier moving so assuredly around the room was waiting for you, that he’d chosen you. His hair was damp and tiny droplets of water littered his back, running in rivulets over the scars on his shoulder. He was opening and closing drawers, tossing the items he pulled from them onto the bed.

You stepped into the room and cleared your throat. Bucky turned at the sound, his lips tipping up in a smirk when he saw you.

“Hey, doll,” he said, striding across the room to stand in front of you.

“Hi,” you whispered, peeking around him at the items on the bed. “What’s going on?”

“I thought I’d show you some more stuff,” he said. “If you’re okay with that?” He circled you, dragging a finger down your arm, his touch feather-light and gentle. He stopped behind you, his hands on your waist, his lips pressed to your ear. “What do you say, Y/N? You down to try some new stuff?”

You nodded, a shiver racing down your spine.

“Use your words, doll,” Bucky asked.

“Y-yes, sir,” you whispered.

“Are you going to be a good girl?” he purred. “Are you going to do as I ask?”

“Yes,” you murmured.

“Yes, what?” He squeezed your hips, tight, bordering on painful.

A tingle of anticipation ran through you and goosebumps broke out all over your skin. “Yes, sir,” you said.

“I want you out of those clothes and on the bed,” he ordered.

You hurried to strip off your yoga pants and t-shirt, kicking them aside. You started toward the bed, only to be stopped by Bucky’s hand on your arm.

“All of it, doll,” he said. He ran a metal finger down the curve of your back and into the waistband of your underwear, snapping the elastic lightly against your skin.

You couldn’t help but wonder what he had planned as you dropped your bra and underwear to the floor, then climbed onto the bed, sitting in the center of it.

Bucky picked up one of the items he’d tossed on the bed, examining it. You couldn’t stop staring at his hands, the light glinting off his metal fingers, the small whirring sound it made as he moved.

“I want you on your hands and knees,” he said quietly, moving to your side.

You did as instructed, no hesitation. You wanted to prove to Bucky that you trusted him not to hurt you. 

“This is going to be a little different than last time,” he said. “But it’ll be good, I promise.”

He took your hands in his, binding your wrists and tying them to one of the bedposts. He took a few seconds to test it, making it wasn’t too tight by slipping two fingers between the rope and your wrists. Once he was satisfied that it wasn’t, he pulled you up so you were kneeling on the bed, your ass in the air. Your heart was pounding and you were shaking.

Bucky appeared in front of you, his lips brushing your forehead. “Are you okay?”

“I think so,” you nodded. “I-I’m...I’m just a little nervous.”

“If you’re not okay, you have to tell me,” he whispered. “In fact, we need a safe word.”

“A wh-what?” you mumbled.

“A safeword. If you think I’ve crossed a line or you’re feeling uncomfortable, hurt, anything, you say the safe word,” Bucky explained. “If you say it, I stop immediately, no matter what.”

“And you won’t be mad at me?” you asked.

“No, doll, I won’t be mad,” he replied. “I promise. Now, give me a safe word.”

“Petunias,” you blurted.

“Petunias?” Bucky smirked.

“It was the first thing I thought of,” you giggled nervously.

“Petunias it is,” he smiled.

Bucky pressed another kiss to your lips, then he moved behind you, his hands sliding over your skin, caressing you gently. He leaned over your back, his hands drifting up your stomach as he pressed kisses along your shoulders and along the column of your neck. He cupped your breasts, kneading them, his fingers plucking at the nipples, pinching and twisting.

You moaned, your stomach twisting in anticipation. You were already wet, aching with desire, anticipating what Bucky had planned for you.

He bit into the skin beneath your neck, drawing another moan from you. “I want to show you something, doll. Something I want to try,” he murmured. He held out a black blindfold, silk, with an elastic band to hold it in place. “Do you want to try it?”

You drew in a sharp breath, your heart pounding. If you had a blindfold on, you wouldn’t be able to see anything Bucky was doing. The thought scared you, more than you thought it would. 

“Answer me, Y/N,” he ordered.

“I don’t know,” you replied. “I’m not sure how I feel about not being able to see what you’re doing. I guess I don’t understand what the point of the blindfold is?”

“It’s to heighten the experience,” Bucky explained patiently. “Your other senses kick into high gear when one of them is dulled. Everything you experience is a little bit sharper. And the anticipation, knowing but not knowing, makes everything clearer, better.”

“Okay,” you nodded. “That makes sense.”

“Are you good with me blindfolding you?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” you murmured.

“I wanna show you one more thing,” he said. “The other thing I want to use tonight.” He held something in front of your face; it had a long black handle with dozens of thin tails. You weren’t exactly sure what it was.

“This is a flogger,” Bucky explained, almost as if you’d asked your question out loud. “I’m going to use it to, well, spank you, for want of a better word.” He brushed the back of your hand with it. It was surprisingly soft, yet heavy. “It’s a different sensation than spanking, but I think you’ll like it. The tails are made of suede, so they’re soft. The sting isn’t too bad. Okay?

“O-okay,” you stammered.

Bucky slid the blindfold over your eyes, everything going dark. You dragged in a stuttering breath, your body tensing. Having your vision suddenly gone was disconcerting, scary. It was so much different than Bucky asking you to keep your eyes closed. You felt his hands on your body, felt the scruff on his chin scratching at your cheek. His touch instantly calmed you.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he whispered.

You nodded, even though your heart was racing and you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“Y/N,” Bucky said firmly. “You have to tell me if you aren’t okay. I mean it. Don’t tell me you’re fine when you’re not. You have to be honest with me.”

“I’m fine, Bucky, I swear.” You had to trust him, you had to trust that he wouldn’t hurt you.

Bucky reached past you and you felt him checking the bindings, then his lips were on your neck, his hands caressing your naked body, his touch calming your tense muscles. Once your breathing evened out and your heart stopped pounding, Bucky kissed the center of your back, between your shoulder blades, his lips soft, wet, as if he’d been licking them.

“Okay, doll, here we go.” Something whistled through the air and connected with the sensitive skin of your ass. You jumped, a startled yelp coming out of you. To your surprise, heat pooled deep in your gut and between your legs at the slight sting.

The whistle of the flogger moving through the air came again, the suede now hitting your back, one buttock, then the other. You squirmed, gasping as the long strands connected with your skin. Bucky paused and leaned over you, one hand in the center of your back. 

“Be still, baby,” he murmured.

He started again, alternating between hard blows and gentle touches, followed by the brush of his hand over your ass, soothing the sting.

Your breath tore in and out of your throat, decadent moans passing your lips, your body on fire with need. You wanted, _needed_ , Bucky to touch you. Everywhere. You wanted to beg him to take you, to fuck you, but couldn’t seem to string together a coherent thought, let alone a coherent sentence; all you could do was whimper and mewl, your hands wrapped around the ropes binding you to the bed, trying not to squirm as he worked you over.

The bed shifted and Bucky moved away from you. You strained to hear what he was doing, head down, staring at the inside of the blindfold, concentrating on his movements. A second later, his mouth was against your ear.

“Are you good, doll?” he asked.

“Yes, s-sir,” you panted, your tongue darting out to lick at your lips.

“Good. You know what, I think I wanna hear you scream,” he said, nipping at your ear lobe. “Loud. Do you think you can scream for me?”

“Bucky, please,” you moaned. “I-I...what if someone hears me?” The thought of someone hearing you made heat rush to your cheeks.

“Good,” he whispered. “It’ll remind them that you’re mine. Now, I’m gonna ask you again. Can you scream for me?”

“Yes,” you mumbled.

Bucky’s metal hand connected sharply with your ass, making you jump. “Try again,” he growled. He rubbed circles over the spot he’d just spanked, before sliding his fingers between your legs and tracing over the lips of your pussy. “Y/N?”

“Y..ye…yes sir,” you whined, pushing back, seeking more, desperate for more.

“So anxious,” Bucky chuckled. “But you’re not gonna come until I say.”

You whimpered and pushed back against his fingers again. He was truly trying to kill you.

One finger pressed at your entrance, circling, teasing, while Bucky’s mouth roamed all over your backside. You felt the scratch of his stubble on the back of your calf, the sting of a bite just above the back of your knee, then a trail of kisses moving along your inner thigh. His hair brushed against your legs, then he was pulling you down onto his face, his hands around your thighs, holding you against his mouth, tongue lapping at you, his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking. He groaned, the vibration shooting through you.

You gasped, your hips rocking forward, Bucky’s tongue sinking deeper into you, his mouth closing over you. God, this was killing you; you wanted to wrap your hands in his hair and stare into those brilliant blue eyes as Bucky fucked you into oblivion with just his tongue.

You were concentrating, focusing every ounce of yourself on what Bucky was doing between your legs, listening to the wet and hungry sounds he was making, moaning at the feel of his hands tightly gripping your thighs as he devoured you like a starving man. Every sound, every dig of his fingers into your legs, every brush of his tongue across your sweet spot, had your moans growing louder and louder. You were trembling, your entire body shaking, Bucky’s fingers pressed against your clit, circling it several times, pushing you closer and closer to orgasm.

Just as you were about to come, Bucky released you, though you could still feel him between your legs, his lips gently kissing your inner thighs, then your stomach, moving up the bed and your body until he was lying beneath you with you stretched out on top of him, his hips nestled against yours, his cock dragging through the lips of your pussy. You rutted against him, desperate for some kind of friction. Bucky’s hands clamped down on your waist, holding you in place, holding you still. You groaned in frustration.

Bucky pulled you down until your chest was pressed to his, and you could feel his breath blowing against your cheek. He brushed a kiss across your lips.

“Not until I say, Y/N,” he scolded.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you whispered, dropping your chin to your chest.

Bucky took your chin between his fingers, guiding you to his mouth, kissing you. A minute later, your hands went slack, the ties binding you to the bed now loose. Bucky lifted you, pulling you with him as he moved, stopping when his back hit the headboard and you were straddling him, your thighs on either side of his hips, your bound wrists looped around his neck.

“I’m gonna take off the blindfold, doll,” he told you.

You squeezed your eyes closed as Bucky pulled the silk cloth from your head. He pressed a kiss to each eye, his hands sliding up into your hair, holding you to him. He released you, just long enough to slide a condom down his length, then he was moving his hips, the head of his cock nestled between the lips of your pussy, your slick coating him. He reached between your bodies, lifted you and lowered you onto his length, easing you down, giving you time to adjust, dragging out the inevitable. 

He dragged his lips up and down your neck, finally catching your earlobe with his teeth and whispering, “Move.”

You pressed your knees into the bed, rocking forward, sinking onto Bucky’s cock, groaning as he completely filled you. He slid his hands out of your hair to your shoulders, holding them as he bucked up into you, pulling you down at the same time.

You were gasping, panting, moaning, so fucking close, almost there, but you knew you couldn’t come without Bucky’s permission, so you waited, balanced on that edge, the pleasure so intense it was painful.

Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist and snaked his metal hand between your bodies, his fingers pressing against your clit, drawing a gasp from you. Your head fell back, his lips on your neck, his fingers massaging the swollen nub of nerves, his hips rising up off the bed, his cock brushing your sweet spot with every thrust.

“You can come, doll,” he growled.

Those were the words you’d been waiting for. Your head dropped to rest against his, your arms tightened around his neck, despite the ropes binding your wrists, and you rocked forward one last time, the orgasm bursting through you like an explosion of light, your body alight with bliss as you came, the intensity of your climax making you lightheaded and dizzy.

Bucky joined you seconds later, groaning as his own orgasm took over, his hand so tight on your waist you knew you’d have bruises there later, a mark of how intense the sex had been.

As the last vestiges of the orgasm dissipated, you found yourself curled against Bucky’s chest, his hands moving in soothing circles over your back. He rolled to his side and carefully disengaged himself from you. He gently removed the ropes still around your wrists, his touch always soft and tender, occasional kisses brushed across your cheek as he took care of you.

It didn’t take him long to get you some water, clean you up, and put all the toys away; he was quick and efficient. When he was done, he slipped into the bed beside you and pulled you into his arms, your back against his chest.

“You doing okay, sweetheart?” he murmured, his nose buried in your hair.

“I’m good,” you replied. “Really, really good. Did I do okay?”

“You did fantastic,” he chuckled. “Absolutely fantastic.”

“I was scared,” you whispered.

“Scared of me?” Bucky asked. You didn’t fail to notice that he sounded upset, worried.

“No,” you shook your head. “Just...scared of the unknown, scared of messing up, scared I’d disappoint you…” You trailed off with a halfhearted shrug. “I didn’t, did I?” 

“Jesus, doll, no,” he answered. “You never could.”

You closed your eyes, reveling in Bucky’s words. You rested your hand on top of his, your fingers dancing over the metal. You wanted to follow it up his arm to his shoulder, run your fingers over the scars, show him that you loved everything about him, even the scars marking his body. You couldn’t help but wonder if that would ever happen. You closed your eyes and tried to imagine what it would be like. You prayed the day would come when you could find out.


	8. The Accidental Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky visits you in your office and you overhear a conversation that leaves you reeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Russian (via Google Translate): Дорогой = darling and девственница = virgin.

You glanced up at the sound of the office door opening, wondering if Pepper had returned early from her meeting with Tony. But it was Bucky standing in the door, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, a smile on his face. Not for the first time, you wondered how you'd managed to not only catch his eye but be lucky enough for him to want you.

You hung up the phone and pushed away from the desk, rising to your feet. You had only been working for Pepper for a few months, ever since you had come to the compound. You’d wanted to help, wanted something to do, and seeing as how you weren’t blessed with the same talents as the other people living there, you’d helped in the only way you knew how - working in the office.

Not that it wasn’t important work, you just didn’t feel like you were saving the world answering phones, taking messages, and keeping the supplies in the compound stocked. Pepper kept telling you it was important, but you didn’t see how it was as important as, say, what Natasha and Wanda did.

Bucky met you in front of the desk. He gently stroked your cheek with the back of his fingers, smiling down at you.

“I missed you, doll,” he grinned.

“You did?” you murmured.

“I did,” he whispered. “Come here.” He picked you up and set you on the edge of the desk, pushing everything on it to one side, a stack of papers fluttering to the floor.

He stepped between your legs, a smirk on his face. He put his hands on either side of your legs and leaned over, caging you in. “All I’ve been able to think about all day is kissing you. Right here.” He kissed the corner of your mouth. “And right here.” He kissed the other side. “And definitely right here.” He nibbled at your lips, coaxing open your mouth. His tongue flicked across your bottom lip and slipped past them, tracing over your teeth before tangling with your tongue.

You sighed as the kiss deepened, the pen in your hand falling to the floor as you reached up to tangle your fingers in his hair. You wrapped your legs around the back of his thighs and pulled him closer, nestling him between your hips. He moaned into your mouth, rutting against you, his hands in your hair, holding you close. His lips slid across your jaw and down your neck, settling at the juncture between your neck and shoulder. He popped open the buttons on your blouse and cupped your breast in his hand, kneading it roughly, his thumb brushing over the nipple.

You arched your back, pressing your breast into his hand. You desperately wanted to touch him, to feel his skin under your hands, to show him that you loved every inch of him, scars or no scars. You wanted to push his shirt off and caress his bare chest, but you resisted the urge, choosing instead to rest them on his hips.

Bucky pushed your skirt up, bunching it around your waist, and twisted his metal fingers in your panties, quickly yanking them off of you. You moaned, opening your legs for him, gasping as he slid two fingers inside of you, pumping them slowly. Your hips came up, pushing against his fingers, your eyes closed, your head thrown back, the pleasure exploding through you.

“Open my pants, doll,” he murmured against the side of your neck.

You moved to unbutton and unzip his jeans, fumbling a little as Bucky continued pumping his fingers in and out of your wet pussy. It took you a few seconds to shove your hand past the waistband of his jeans and into his boxers, but once you did, you took hold of his hard cock and stroked him roughly.

Bucky pulled a condom out of his back pocket and put it into your hand, leaning back a little so you could slide it down his length.

He dropped his head and took your breast in his mouth, rolling the nipple between his teeth, tugging at it even as he pumped his fingers, driving you nearly wild with need, spasms of pleasure rushing through you when the tips of his fingers brushed over your sweet spot.

“Jesus, Buck,” you moaned. “Don’t tease…”

“Oh, sweetheart, I get to do whatever I want,” he growled. “I love watching you fall apart and if I want to do it slowly, I’m gonna do it slowly.” He brushed a kiss across your lips. “Or maybe I’ll do it hard.” He thrust deep, two fingers buried inside of you, his palm pressed against your clit. 

“Fuck me,” you moaned, the movement pushing you right up to the edge, your orgasm just within your reach.

Except Bucky chose that moment to pull away, his hands sliding under your ass and pulling you to the edge of the table. He guided himself to your entrance and with one hard thrust, he entered you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your hips rising up to meet his as he slammed into you. He leaned over you and caught your lips in his, his kisses bruising and demanding.

He slipped his hand between your bodies, his nimble fingers immediately finding your clit, rubbing it as he pumped his hips, harder and harder with every second that passed until you were so close together, that your bodies were like one entity. He circled your clit with his finger and that was it for you, you lost it, the orgasm rolled through you, a gasping cry bursting from your throat as you came, Bucky right behind you.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows to look at Bucky. He stood between your legs, his hands resting on the table on either side of you, a wicked grin on his face. His cheeks were flushed, his blues eyes sparkled, and there was a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead, dampening his hair. He looked gorgeous. 

He took your hand and pulled you upright, catching your lips in his and kissing you, a slow, sensual kiss that had you yearning for him all over again. He helped you to your feet, your skirt falling back into place. He cleaned himself up while you fixed your clothes and pulled your underwear back on. 

“That was unexpected,” you smiled as you slipped them back on. “I’ve never had sex on a desk before.”

Bucky stepped close to you, a smirk on his face. “There’s a lot of things you’ve never done, doll.” He kissed the corner of your mouth. “I need to go shower. I’ll see you later?”

You nodded, turning your head to brush your lips against his, earning a smile in return before he stepped out the door. You hurried to pick up the papers scattered across the floor, grinning to yourself as you did. Once everything was back in order, you grabbed a file from one of the cabinets and crossed the room. The door was open a couple of inches and you could hear voices in the hall.

“I don’t understand why you’re so attached to her,” you heard Natasha say.

You took a step back, peering through the crack. Bucky and Natasha were standing outside of Captain Rogers’ office. Bucky had his back to you and Natasha, well, she was standing closer to Bucky than you cared for.

“Whatever, Romanoff,” Bucky shrugged. “It’s not your problem to worry about.”

Natasha pursed her lips, her eyebrows drawn together in irritation. “You were just in there fucking her, weren’t you?”

Bucky’s head moved, just a little, a nod, maybe. His shoulders were stiff, his fists clenched at his side. If you could tell he was irritated, why couldn’t Nat?

“I thought so. You know, I’ve seen you look more satisfied,” she purred, taking another step closer to Bucky. “Like, when we were together. Remember, Buck? We were good together.”

“No, we weren’t,” Bucky grunted.

“I can be what you need, Дорогой,” Natasha murmured. “Not her, not that….девственница. She doesn’t know what it takes to keep you satisfied. Not like I do.” She reached out, her fingers trailing down his chest, down his stomach.

Bucky didn’t even flinch.

You stepped back, quietly pushing the door closed, sagging against it, your forehead resting on the wood. Natasha had touched him. She had reached out and run her fingers down his chest, the scars on his left side, and he had done nothing to stop her. Nothing.

You spun on your heels and raced through the office and the attached conference room, bursting through the door on the opposite side and speeding down the hallway through the compound to the living quarters. Your breath was tearing in and out of your throat, tears blurring your vision. You barely heard your name being called from somewhere behind you as you slid around the corner into your room. You violently pushed the door closed, waiting for the satisfying slam, but all you heard was a muffled grunt.

“What the hell, Y/N?” Bucky yelled, shoving your door open. “Didn’t you hear me?”

You swung around, an angry scowl on your face. “Oh, I heard you. I heard you and Nat talking.”

“Romanoff?” he asked. “She stopped me in the hall -”

“I know,” you spat. “I saw. I saw you talking, I saw her standing in front of you, I saw you doing nothing when she touched you.”

“Y/N, I told you, we have a history,” he sighed, shaking his head.

“But why does she get to touch you? Touch your scars?” you prodded. “Why does she get to touch you and I don’t?”

Bucky scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s complicated, Y/N.”

“It’s not a Facebook relationship, Bucky,” you snapped. “I just want to know why.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he mumbled.

A tear slipped down your cheek and you absentmindedly brushed it away. You were broken, desperate, and you didn’t know what to do. You swallowed past the lump rising in your throat. “I just want you to say that you feel the same way that I do, that you’re falling in love with me like I’m falling in love with you.”

Bucky’s mouth fell open, and you would have laughed if you hadn’t noticed the panicked look that had suddenly taken over his face. It dawned on you what you had just said to him. 

“Bucky -”

You moved toward him, but he stumbled back, his hand reaching blindly for the door behind him. Without a word, he threw it open and took off down the hall.

God, it was worse than a slap to the face; the rejection, the indifference to your feelings. You dropped to the end of the bed, your head in your hands. You hadn’t wanted to fall in love with Bucky, and you certainly hadn’t meant for it to happen. But there it was, laid out in front of you, in all of its tarnished glory.

You were in love with Bucky Barnes.


	9. A Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You come to terms with what happened between you and Bucky. He has a proposal for you (no, not that kind of proposal).

It took you about five seconds to decide you needed to do something, so you shoved yourself off the bed, threw open the door, and ran down the hall after Bucky. You caught him just before he rounded the corner, reaching out and snatching his hand.

“Bucky, please,” you murmured. “Just...just talk to me.”

He turned back to you, his face unreadable. He pulled his hand from yours and crossed his arms over his chest, effectively closing himself off. “I can’t, Y/N. If you want me to tell you I love you, I can’t.”

“I-I don’t need the words, Buck,” you whispered, tears swimming in your eyes. “But I can’t help how I feel. I can't help that I've fallen in love with you.”

Bucky reached out and stroked your cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb. “You can’t love me,” he shook his head, his voice raw, wrecked. “I can’t make you happy.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "You deserve better than me, Y/N. I am fucked up beyond repair. I'll never be good enough for anyone, let alone good enough for you. Not like this. Not after everything I’ve done.” He stepped back, his head dropping, his fists clenching and unclenching. It was so quiet in the hallway, you could hear the click and whir of the vibranium arm’s mechanisms. “Let’s just...we’ll talk about this later. Tomorrow or something. I need some time to think.”

You nodded, though you didn’t know if he even saw it, not when he was staring at the floor, and you were desperately fighting back the tears, unable to look at him. A wave of exhaustion washed over you. You didn’t think you could fight his demons in order to get him to love you, especially when you didn’t even know what those demons were. You turned and walked away, scurrying down the hallway to your room. You were mentally drained, exhausted, and all you wanted to do was sleep. Maybe you could figure this out tomorrow after you’d gotten some rest, when you could think straight. You pulled back the blankets on your bed, crawled under them, and cried yourself to sleep.

* * *

It was the noise that woke you, the sounds of people moving through the halls, shouting, doors slamming, boots hitting the floor. You forced yourself out of bed, glancing at the clock as you threw the covers back. It was after midnight. You couldn’t believe you’d slept for almost ten hours. You stumbled to the door in the dark, yanked it open, and stepped out, only to run right into Captain Rogers.

“Oh, shit, sorry” you gasped. 

He grabbed your elbow, somehow managing to keep both of you upright. There was a faint smile on his face as he looked down at you.

“You okay, Y/N?” he asked, his brow furrowed with concern.

“Yeah,” you mumbled. 

“Are you sure? I know what happened with Bucky…”

"Wait? What?" you muttered. "He told you?"

“Of course he told me,” Steve replied. “He tells me just about everything.”

At least Bucky had someone to talk to and honestly, you were relieved it wasn’t Natasha. You took a deep breath and the words just flew out of you. “I-I think it might be over, Steve,” you sighed, the tears threatening again. “I don’t think I’m what Bucky needs.”

“Hey, c’mon, Y/N, don’t say that.” Steve patted your arm gently. “I know Bucky better than anyone. I can promise you, I’ve never seen him as happy as he is when he’s with you.”

“Not even when he was with Natasha?” you muttered.

Steve leaned over you, a fierce look on his face. “Not even with Natasha,” he said firmly.

“Captain Rogers, wheels up in five minutes,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. 's disembodied voice interrupted.

“What’s going on?”

“Clint found a Hydra base in Azerbaijan. It’s all hands on deck,” he explained, flipping his shield around and putting it on his back.

“You’re leaving? Everyone?” you whispered. “Even Bucky?”

“Sorry, Y/N,” he replied. “Everybody, even Bucky.”

“But we...I mean, I…” You swallowed and blew out a shaky breath. 

“I know,” he sighed. “You two need to talk. But, duty calls. You heard F.R.I.D.A.Y. Wheels up in five.” He squeezed your shoulder. “We’ll be back in a few days. You are under house arrest until then. Do not even  _ think _ about leaving the compound. I’m trusting you to do as I ask. Understand?"

“I understand,” you nodded. And you did. You knew what leaving the compound could mean and it wasn’t anything good.

Steve waved goodbye and took off at a fast trot down the hall. You leaned against the wall by the door, trying to stay out of the way, watching as people flew past you, racing through the halls, bags and weapons in hand. You were waiting to see one person and one person only. When Bucky finally appeared, emerging from the corridor that led to his living quarters, you stood upright, wondering if he would even acknowledge you.

He looked right, then left, his blue eyes locking with yours, and instead of turning right to join the rest of the team, he moved down the hall, coming to a stop about four feet from you. You took a step forward, and for some reason, he stepped back, the gesture like a stinging slap to the face. The world shifted, leaving a wide, yawning abyss between you and Bucky, an abyss you were terrified you would fall into.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. 's voice filled the halls, reminding everyone that they needed to report to the north landing pad.

“You better hurry,” you murmured.

“Y/N -”

“Go, Buck,” you sighed. “The world needs saving. Go do what you guys do best.”

“Bucky!” Natasha’s voice echoed off the glass corridor, startling you. She was standing a few feet away, at the mouth of the same corridor Bucky had just come from. Your stomach dropped and bile rose in the back of your throat.

“I have to go,” Bucky mumbled, straightening his shoulders and turning away from you. He looked utterly broken, a man in agonizing pain. 

“Goodbye, Y/N,” he called over his shoulder, the two of you exchanging one last glance.

“Goodbye, Bucky,” you said. You weren’t even sure he heard you.

* * *

A pattern developed as the days passed - you’d wake up, work for a few hours, cry a lot, and eventually, you’d try to sleep. One day bled into the next. Bucky haunted your dreams, his flashing blue eyes, his chestnut brown hair, the lost look on his face as he’d walked away from you, the way Natasha had called his name. Your mind twisted her appearance in the corridor into multiple scenarios and images you didn’t even want to think about that played on a loop in your head, making you sick to your stomach.

You waited anxiously for news from the team, from Bucky, but they’d gone radio silent; even Pepper hadn’t heard from Tony. She didn’t seem as worried as you, in fact, she took it in stride.

“It happens, Y/N,” she’d shrugged. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

Pepper’s words did nothing to appease your worry; you felt as if every waking moment was spent worrying about Bucky, needing Bucky. Memories of him tortured you - falling at his feet your first day at the compound, how you’d felt when he’d finally asked you out, the first time he’d spanked you, how unexpectedly gentle he could be, his sharp sense of humor, and his dark, brooding, sexy stare. You missed him. It had been five days, five days of agony that felt like an eternity. You cried yourself to sleep at night, wishing you hadn’t let him walk away, wishing you'd tried harder to get him to talk to you.

The dawn of the sixth day found you sitting in the common room, sipping a cup of coffee, an uneaten sandwich beside it. You were staring out the window, an open book on the table in front of you. You were alone in the huge compound; Pepper had gone into the city for the day, claiming she had work to do, but you suspected that it was to get away from you and your brooding.

“Ms. Y/L/N, the quinjet is approaching from the east,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. 's voice unexpectedly filled the room. “Estimated time of arrival is twenty minutes. Sergeant Barnes has asked for you to meet him outside his living quarters.”

Your head popped up, your stomach dropping to your toes, your heart pounding out of control. Bucky was home. And he wanted to see you. Of all the break-up scenarios you’d imagined, this hadn’t been one of them.

In twenty minutes you would finally see him, after six days of no contact. You picked up your coffee, but your hands were shaking too much, it kept sloshing over the side of the mug, burning your hand. You gave up and set the mug down, pushing it, and the sandwich, away. You blew out a shaky breath and pushed a hand through your hair.

Twenty-three minutes later, you were leaning against the wall outside of Bucky’s room, waiting. Your stomach was in knots and your hands were still shaking. You prayed that you were wrong, that Bucky didn’t want to see you so he could break up with you. Six days away from him had made you realize just how desperately in love with him you really were.

You heard him approaching, heard his boots hitting the floor as he stalked toward you. You pushed yourself away from the wall, tried to swallow past the lump rising in your throat, and turned in that direction. Bucky appeared in the hall, still in uniform, his hair pulled away from his face, a faint smile dancing across his lips when his eyes met yours. He picked up the pace, coming to a stop in front of you. He rested one hand on the wall above your head and leaned over you.

“Hiya, doll,” he whispered.

“Hi,” you replied, leaning your head back to stare up at him.

“Thank you for coming down to meet me,” he said. “Were you busy?”

“No,” you shook your head. “Pepper’s out. I was...I was reading in the common room.”

Bucky nodded, his eyes drifting over you. “Will you come in, so we can talk?” Bucky asked, pointing at his door.

You nodded and followed him into his room. “I’m going to shower,” he said. “Can you give me ten minutes?”

“Sure,” you said, sitting on the edge of the small sofa against the wall. You folded your hands in your lap, squeezing them together so tight your knuckles ached.

Bucky watched you for a second, then he shrugged off his jacket, and headed for the bedroom, hitting the button on the stereo as he passed it, soft jazz filling the room. A few minutes later you heard the shower in the bathroom come on and you relaxed the tiniest bit, blowing out a shaky breath.

You couldn’t sit still, so you got up and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, then you started pacing back and forth, filled with nervous energy. You jumped when you heard the water go off, and, anxious to get the conversation with Bucky started, you downed the bottle of water and marched into the bedroom.

He emerged from the bathroom, dressed in jeans and a pale blue henley, barefoot, his hair still wet, droplets of water sprinkled across the shoulders of his shirt. He gave you a tentative smile as you crossed the room and perched on the edge of the chair in the corner.

“You wanted to talk?” you said quietly.

“I think we need to, don’t you?” He sat on the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him. 

“Yes,” you nodded. “I need you to know...I, uh, I...I meant what I said.”

“So, you do love me?” he murmured.

“Yes,” you sighed. “Yes, I do love you.”

“Okay, good,” he muttered. “I can work with that.”

“I-I don’t understand. You can work with that?”

Bucky cleared his throat, his eyes on you, not blinking. “I don’t want to lose you, Y/N,” he said. “In fact, I  _ can’t _ lose you.” 

“Thank God,” you whispered.

“I missed you, more than I thought I would. You were all I could think about the past few days. I couldn’t even concentrate on the mission. I thought Steve was going to throttle me, he was so irritated with me.”

“What are you trying to say, Bucky?” you whispered.

“I had a thought,” he replied. “About the two of us. A proposal of sorts.”

“I’m assuming it’s not the marriage kind,” you muttered.

“No,” Bucky chuckled. “We haven’t been together long enough to talk about marriage. One step at a time.”

“Okay, then, what’s your proposal?” you asked.

“Are you okay with the way things are? Not the...emotional part of our relationship, but -”

“Are we in a relationship?” you laughed sardonically. 

“Y/N, please.”

“Sorry, go on,” you murmured.

“Answer my question,” he demanded. “Are you happy with the way things are?”

“The physical part? Yes.” You could feel the heat rising up your neck and you had to suppress the urge to gnaw on your lips. “I’m very happy with that part of our relationship.”

“You’re okay with the things we’ve done?” he inquired. “The spankings, me tying you up, all that stuff?”

“So far, yes,” you replied.

“So, you’d be okay with not changing that part of our relationship?”

You didn’t even have to think about your answer. “I don’t like not being able to touch you,” you said.

Bucky nodded. “I thought you might say that.”

“Natasha can touch you,” you murmured, staring at the floor beneath your feet.

“I don’t want to talk about Natasha,” he sighed. He pushed a hand through his still damp hair, yanking it into a ponytail with the binding around his wrist.

“We have to talk about her,” you stated firmly. “If you really want to negotiate whatever it is we’re negotiating, then that is going to be a part of this conversation.”

Bucky blew out a breath. “Romanoff doesn’t mean anything to me,” he said firmly. “And what you saw, her touching me, it was unprovoked. I didn’t ask her to touch me, I didn’t want her to touch me. She tends to take certain...liberties.” He cleared his throat and shifted uneasily, rubbing his hands up and down his thighs. “It’s one of the reasons we’re not together anymore.”

“Really?” you asked, shocked. It surprised you that she would do something like that against his wishes.

Bucky shoved himself off the bed and fell to his knees in front of you. He took your hands in his. “Yes,” he said. “That and a million other reasons. You have to believe me. Natasha doesn’t mean anything to me. I never wanted her like I want you. And I should have said that, I should have told you. But I got scared, nervous, shit, I chickened out. I was stupid. You have to believe me.”

“I want to, Buck, I do,” you sighed. “I just...I don’t know…After what happened, after you walked away from me -”

“I understand,” he said. “I hate knowing that I’m the one who upset you. I hate it. I can never apologize enough, I know that. All of my instincts tell me to let you go, tell me that I don’t deserve you. But I’m selfish. I’ve wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you, when you fell on the floor at my feet. I want you and the thought of not being with you feels like a knife twisting inside me. But at the same time, I know I'm not good enough for you. I can never be what you want and keeping you for myself is selfish. I should let you go.”

Your head was spinning. You weren't sure if Bucky was telling you he loved you or telling you that your relationship was over. You scooted to the edge of the chair and squeezed his hands. 

“I love you, Bucky Barnes,” you said firmly. “But that’s all I can give you. Just...let me love you. And eventually, maybe you’ll love me. So, my counter-proposal? We start over, we promise to be honest with each other, and you let me love you. You don’t have to love me back. Not now. But maybe eventually you will. Okay?”

Bucky took hold of your arms and pulled you into his lap, his arms snaking around you and crushing you to his chest.

“Proposal accepted,” he breathed, burying his nose in your hair.

You snuggled into his arms, your head resting on his shoulder. He gently rubbed your back.

“Are we gonna be okay?” you asked.

“I think so,” he nodded. “We just have to work through some things.”

“Like what?”

“I guess the biggest thing is that I need to let you touch me, touch my scars. It’s hard for me, Y/N,” he whispered. “Harder than you can even imagine.”

“I know,” you murmured. “I just...I wish I understood why. I wish you would tell me why.”

Bucky tensed beneath you, a heavy sigh coming from him. “You know about HYDRA, the brainwashing, what they did to me, the things I was forced to do?”

“Yes,” you replied.

“There were other...things...I was made to do,” he said, his voice so quiet you could barely hear him. “Any time someone touches my scars, it...it reminds me of things I would rather forget.”

“You remember? I thought when they wiped you -”

“I remember everything,” he whispered, his eyes haunted.

Your heart constricted as you remembered the look on his face the times you had almost touched the scars marking his skin, the way he’d flinch, the fear in his eyes. You threw your arms around his neck, your hands in his hair, holding him close.

“It’s messed up, doll,” he said. “I’m messed up.” He tightened his arms around you and kissed your cheek, just a brush of his lips against your skin. “Which is why I’ll understand if you don’t want to be with me.”

“Don’t say that,” you scolded. “I told you, I love you. I’m not going to walk away because you think you’re too much to handle. I can take it.” You prayed you could take it, because there was no walking away now, no turning back.

“Kiss and make up?” he whispered, his lips inches from yours.

You nodded, your breathing speeding up as you sought out his lips and kissed him. Bucky ran his hands up your back and into your hair, deepening the kiss, moaning low in the back of his throat. You kissed him like you hadn’t touched him in a hundred years, squeezing your thighs together, rocking against him, drawing another moan from his as his cock hardened beneath you.

“Shit, doll,” he growled, pulling your head back and attacking your neck, sucking and biting as if he meant to devour you.

“Bucky,” you moaned.

He rose to his feet, easily, carrying you as if you weighed nothing, and laid you across the bed. He crawled over you, his weight a comfort you’d been craving for the last six days. His lips on yours, the feel of his tongue tracing your lips, urging them open, pushed everything else from your mind - Bucky’s proclivities, your worries over Natasha, your fear that he wouldn’t come back from the mission, everything - all of that was forgotten, all that was left was Bucky. And right now, that was all you wanted.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in close, wanting all of him, every part of him. He made you feel things you’d never thought you’d feel, not ever.

Bucky was slow, deliberate, taking his time as he removed your clothes piece by piece, stopping frequently to run his hand and lips over your exposed skin. By the time Bucky had stripped you naked, you were tingling with desire, every inch of your body on fire with need for him. 

You reached for him, dragging his lips to yours, kissing him as one hand tugged at the t-shirt still covering him, and the other was tucked in the waistband of his unbuttoned jeans, using it to pull him closer.

“Take them off,” you urged, yanking the shirt up his chest.

Bucky grabbed your hand, pulled it above your head, and held it in place. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to your lips before pushing himself upright.

“Bossy,” he chuckled. He hurriedly discarded his clothes, tossing them in a pile at the foot of the bed. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled, biting your lip.

“Mmm, I kind of like it when you’re bossy,” Bucky grinned, kissing your cheek, the tip of your nose, your mouth.

“Oh, really,” you murmured, sliding your hand between his legs, your fingers just drifting over his hard shaft. You gently traced circles around the head, your thumb brushing over the slit and the pre-come pooling at the tip. 

Bucky moaned, his forehead resting against yours, his breath quickening as you stroked his length.

“Roll over,” you whispered in his ear, surprised when he did as you asked without hesitation. You leaned over him, your hands on his hips as you licked a path from his bellybutton down the slight v formed by his hips, your tongue swiping at the head of his cock bobbing against his stomach, your eyes on him. You didn’t want to do anything that made him uncomfortable.

His hands were fisted in the blankets on the bed, his head thrown back, his lower lip caught between his teeth. When you sucked him into your mouth, he drew in a heaving breath, letting it out in one long moan of your name. You swallowed him down, sliding down the length of his shaft, trembling with want as his taste spread across your tongue. Bucky’s hips came off the bed, pushing himself deeper into your mouth, one of his hands coming to rest on the back of your head, gently urging you to move.

You rose up on your knees, your head bobbing faster and faster, one hand on Bucky’s inner thigh, holding his legs open, the other fisted around the base of his cock, your eyes squeezed closed, reveling in the feel of him in your mouth, the feel of him losing control because of what you were doing. You squeezed your thighs together, desperate for some kind of release, but not wanting to stop what you were doing, the sheer thrill of pleasuring Bucky almost enough to get you off.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky gasped, tugging slightly at your hair.

You looked up at him, pausing just long enough for him to grab you under the arms and slide you up his body, catching your lips in his, moaning into the kiss. He pressed a condom into your hand, wincing as you slid it down his length. Once it was on, you straddled him, holding him in your hand and slowly easing onto him, gasping as he filled you. You rested your hands on Bucky’s, which were resting on your hips, your fingers intertwined with his, rocking forward and back, allowing yourself time to adjust to Bucky’s substantial size. He let you take control, let you be the one to dictate what happened. You wondered how far he’d let you take it.

“Touch me, Bucky,” you demanded, moving his hand from your waist to between your legs. He did as you asked, his fingers dancing over you. “Right there,” you gasped as his thumb grazed your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

His touch was feather light, gentle, perfect, everything you’d ached for over the last week. You leaned over him, needing his mouth on yours, needing the intimacy, the closeness that kissing him would give you. When you moved, his thumb pressed harder against you, heated bliss consuming you.

“Again,” you rasped, surprised at how quickly Bucky did it, how quickly he sought to please you, to do as you asked.

He held you close to him, your chest pressed to his, the kiss deepening with every thrust of his hips, his cock brushing against your sweet spot every time he moved, the pace increasing as the two of you were consumed with the need to give as much pleasure as possible to each other.

The orgasm hit you like a freight train, bursting through every nerve ending, every muscle, the very fiber of your being filled with an intense, unbelievable, perfect feeling. You grasped the pillow under Bucky’s head so tight your fingers ached, riding him slow and easy, dragging out the sensations.

Bucky braced his feet against the bed, his hands sliding up your back to your shoulders, holding you tight, yanking you down so he could fuck up into you, his lips on your neck, small, tight thrusts that pressed his abs against your clit and dragged his cock against that spot that set your entire body on fire.

You tensed as the orgasm continued exploding inside of you, gasping Bucky’s name. He pounded into you several more times, every press of his hips into yours increasing the intensity of your climax, making you tremble.

Bucky let go with a muffled grunt, his face pressed against your neck, his cock throbbing deep inside you, moaning your name as he let go. Aftershocks of pleasure rolled through you, consuming every inch of you, goosebumps on every inch of exposed skin.

When it was over, you laid side by side, your back against his chest, his body curled around yours. Bucky brushed your hair from your face, his touch gentle as his fingers skimmed your cheek, his lips soft as he brushed the occasional kiss against your neck.

“Can you promise me something?” you whispered.

“I’ll try,” he replied warily. “It depends on what it is.”

“I want you to promise me you won’t walk away from me again when something serious happens, or if you get uncomfortable with something I say,” you said. “I can’t handle it, not again.”

He was nodding before you finished speaking. “I promise, doll.”

You opened your mouth, maybe to extract more promises from him, maybe something else, you weren’t sure, but Bucky pressed a finger to your lips. “No more talking,” he frowned playfully. “I’m talked out for one day. And I’m starving. I haven’t had a decent meal in almost a week. Food now, more talking later. Okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded.

You were going to hold him to that.


	10. Draw the Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky discuss where you are and are not allowed to touch.

The next few days were better than you could have expected. You and Bucky spent every free minute you had together and he seemed to be opening up more, little by little. Allowing you to touch him was still difficult; no matter what you did, he couldn't bring himself to let you touch his scars. As much as you hated it, you were learning to deal with it. You kept hoping over time he would grow to trust you and things would change.

The only dark spot in your evolving relationship was Natasha. You saw her multiple times a day, much to your chagrin. And she spent far too much time hanging around Bucky, though you noticed he seemed to be doing his best to keep his distance. You, in turn, did your best to keep your doubts, fears, and jealousy in check.

After a particularly long day - you’d met with Cho for a much needed appointment to discuss birth control, Banner had needed your help in the lab, and then you’d spent several hours taking inventory in the large underground warehouse - you’d retired to your room to hide out for the night. You managed to take a hot shower and binge a couple of hours of The Great British Baking Show before there was a knock on your door and Bucky was peeking his head around the corner.

“Hey, doll, you busy?”

“No,” you replied, pushing yourself upright on the bed. “What’s up?”

He stepped inside and firmly pushed the door closed behind him. He crossed the room to stand beside the bed and held out his hand, in which he was holding a blue Crayola marker.

You took it from him, frowning. “What is this for?” you asked.

He yanked his shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor by his feet then he sat on the bed beside you. “In an effort to show you that I really am trying, I thought we could talk about where you can and cannot touch me," he explained.

"Okay," you murmured. "I don't understand the point of the marker."

"We're going to do a visual presentation."

"You're going to draw on yourself?" you asked.

“No, you’re going to do it,” he corrected. He scooted backward until he was leaning against the headboard then he patted his lap. “Let’s go.”

You didn’t hesitate, climbing onto him, resting your ass on his thighs, the marker clutched tightly in your hand.

"You seem awfully excited about this," he grumbled.

His hair was hanging in his eyes as if he was trying to hide from you. You pushed it out of his face, cupped his cheek in your hand, and brushed a kiss across his lips.

"Only because I'm hoping you'll relax if I know what my boundaries are," you said. “I want you to trust me, Bucky. Like I trust you.”

Bucky nodded, cupped the back of your head, and kissed you, hard, possessive. He released and sat back, his head leaning against the headboard, his eyes squeezed closed.

"Start here," he said, pointing at his collarbone, right where his neck and shoulder met, his eyes still closed. "Draw a line straight down my chest until I tell you to stop."

You did as he instructed, drawing a shaky blue line from his collarbone, down his chest to an inch or so above his belly button.

"Stop," he mumbled, his voice quaking. He swallowed thickly. "Draw along the bottom of my ribs, toward my arm." The fingers of his metal hand tapped together.

“Bucky, if you -”

“Just do it, Y/N,” he growled, his jaw clenched, his brow furrowed.

Your mouth snapped shut and you did as he instructed, drawing a thick blue line along the bottom of his ribs, stopping when your hand touched his arm.

“O-okay,” you said shakily.

“Now around to my back,” he murmured. He sat forward and bent his leg as you shifted off of him, propping his metal arm on his knee.

You ducked under his arm, sliding around behind him, dragging the marker over his skin. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes as your eyes roamed over his body. The scars were a deep, angry red, and despite what both Tony and Shuri - the Wakandan princess - had done to ease some of that pain, you knew there had to be times when he hurt down deep into his muscles, his bones. And that was just the physical pain, that didn’t even touch the emotional turmoil he frequently dealt with. It tore you apart to see the hideous, evil desecration that had been done by HYDRA to his beautiful body. You bit your lip, desperate to hold back your tears as you sat behind him.

“Draw the line straight up my back, about an inch to the left of my spine,” he said, his voice low and husky. “And connect it to where you started on my collarbone.”

You did as he said, the marker stuttering in your hand as you moved, your hand shaking uncontrollably. There were more scars on his back, not just from the surgery that had connected his metal arm to his body, but thin welts on the skin of his back stretching from his shoulder to his spine. You had to fight the overwhelming urge to kiss each one.

Bucky’s head was down, his body tense as you connected the lines. “I...I’m done,” you whispered, desperately holding your emotions in check. You had drawn what looked like half of a cropped tank top on the left side of his chest and back. You put the lid on the marker and tossed it on the bedside table.

Bucky’s shoulders slumped and he blew out a stuttering breath. “Okay, inside those lines, that’s where you can’t touch. Outside the lines is okay.”

“That’s...that’s not so bad,” you whispered. “I can live with that.” You cleared your throat. “What about your arm?”

“You can touch the arm,” he said. “If you want.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he nodded.

You reached out and gingerly rested two fingers on his arm, just below the bend of his elbow. He did something that made it move, the metal plates shifting, taking you by surprise. He laughed when you jumped.

“Damn it, Buck,” you mumbled. “That was mean.” You hid your grin behind your hand.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry,” he smirked.

“Sure you are,” you scoffed.

“I am,” he murmured, pulling you into his lap. He pushed his hands under your shirt and rested his hands on your waist, his thumbs drawing circles on your skin.

You leaned over and kissed him, slow, easy, for some reason feeling like you had to take things slower now that you understood where you could and could not touch. Bucky groaned and dragged his nose along the edge of your jaw, stopping to nibble at your earlobe as he pushed your shirt up and over your head.

He ran his hands up your back and took your breast in his mouth, kneading it gently as he laved the nipple with his tongue, sucking it between his teeth. You moaned, reached between your bodies, and unbuckled Bucky’s belt, quickly pulling his jeans open. His cock hardened as your fingers brushed over him. You yanked the front of his boxers down, just enough that you could wrap your hand around him.

“Fuck,” he growled, mouthing his way up your chest to your neck then your mouth, finally catching your lips in his, his tongue pushing into your mouth. It was like he wanted to devour you, to take you apart with just his mouth. He lifted you and rolled you to your back, then he rose up on his knees between your legs and hurriedly stripped off the rest of his clothes, his eyes never leaving yours. He slipped his fingers in either side of your silky underwear and slowly slid them down your legs, stopping every few inches to press a kiss to your knee, your ankle, your calf. He dropped the lacy fabric to the floor, then leaned over and kissed you.

His hand slid down your stomach and between your legs, slowly caressing you. “God, sweetheart, you’re so wet.” He brought his hand to his mouth, licking at his damp fingers, before pressing another kiss to your lips and positioning himself with his head between your legs. 

You moaned, your eyes rolling back in your head, your hips coming up off the bed. “Oh Jesus, Bucky,” she gasped, your stomach clenching in anticipation.

Bucky’s tongue darted out, gently lapping at the lips of your pussy, his hands on your thighs, pushing your legs open, his tongue sliding into you, his mouth closing over you, one finger teasing at your entrance. He sucked your clit between his lips and pushed two fingers inside of you, a groan escaping him when you cried out in ecstasy.

You couldn’t get enough, couldn’t get enough of the way he fucked you with just his mouth and his fingers, your hips moving, your fingers scrambling for purchase, finally settling on the back of his head as he worked to get you off. It didn’t take long for it to happen, your entire body reacting to what Bucky was doing - short, stuttering breaths leaving you, your walls clenching at Bucky’s fingers, your hand clamped to the back of his head, holding him against you as you let go, crying out his name as you came.

Bucky stayed between your legs, working you through the orgasm. Only when your moans faded away did he lift his head and press a kiss to your stomach.

“Bucky,” you gasped, breathing heavily, your skin covered in a fine sheen of sweat. “Holy crap...I mean, oh my god, that was amazing.”

He chuckled, sliding up your body until his hips were nestled against yours, his cock brushing the lips of your pussy. Your legs fell open, your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him down to lick at his lips. You pushed a hand between your bodies and took him in your hand, guiding him to your entrance. 

Bucky held himself above you and shook his head. “Condom?” he asked.

“Don’t need it,” you whispered, hooking your leg around the back of his thigh and urging him closer. 

Bucky growled, caught your lips in his, and kissed you as he slowly sank into you.

Once he was fully seated inside you, he paused, holding himself still inside of you, staring into your eyes. You kissed him, just a brush of your lips over his, but it was intimate, perfect. “I love you, Bucky,” you whispered, not expecting an answer, not needing an answer.

He groaned, tilting his hips up and into you, burying himself inside you. He took his time, his thrusts slow and even, your bodies moving together, his cock brushing against your sweet spot with every pump of his hips. He pushed up and into you with every thrust, and you clung to him, your hands on his ass, wanting, needing him so deep inside of you that you would forget where you ended and he began.

You knew he was getting close, his hips pumping faster as he pounded into you. You were gasping and moaning, writhing beneath him, your nails digging into his ass and then you were coming, your walls clamping down around him, the sensation pushing him over the edge, your name on his lips as he tensed, his own orgasm exploding out of him.

He collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily, his face pressed against the side of your neck. Tentatively, you ran your hand along his side, careful to stick to the area you were allowed to touch. You felt him tense under your hands, but he didn’t stop you, not right away anyway.

It wasn’t until your finger drifted along his spine, very close to the line you’d drawn, that he pushed himself up and off the bed. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” he mumbled, heading for the bathroom.

“I’m sorry,” you said, jumping off the bed and following him.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Just...it’s going to take some...adjustment on my part. No one has touched me in a long time.

“Natasha?” Her name popped unbidden out of your mouth.

“Y/N,” Bucky growled. “I told you, I don’t  _ let _ Romanoff touch me, it’s just that over the years, she has grown accustomed to taking certain liberties within our friendship.” His discomfort was obvious. “Look, I don’t want to talk about her. My past is my past. I can’t change it, no matter how much I want to. And believe me, I want to.”

You pushed up on your toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’m sorry,” you murmured.

“You’re forgiven,” he shrugged, a hint of a smile dancing across his lips. “But will you do me a favor and quit bringing up Romanoff?”

You nodded, your hand on his stomach, your fingers drifting across his skin, careful to stay in the touchable areas. He tensed up again.

“I like touching you,” you sighed.

“Not as much as I like touching you,” he smirked, picking you up, his hands under your ass. “How about we go back to bed and I’ll show you how much I like touching you?”

“Oh, yes,” you sighed. “That sounds like a fantastic idea.”


	11. Rack ‘Em Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re good at pool but not as good as Bucky.

Bucky was waiting for you beside the elevator when you emerged from the interview room. You blew the hair off of your forehead and hurried down the hall, sliding to a stop in front of him, pushing up on your toes, and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“This is a nice surprise,” you smiled.

“I thought I’d see if you had any plans,” he shrugged, one shoulder rising minutely. 

“Um...let’s see...seeing as how I can’t leave the compound or I could end up dead...” you mumbled, tapping one finger against your lips. “So, no, no plans.”

"Wow, you're funny," Bucky grinned. "Come on, let's go." He took your hand and dragged you into the elevator with him.

The air in the elevator shifted noticeably as soon the doors slid closed, an electric current sparking to life between you and Bucky, as if a live wire ran between the two of you, connecting you somehow. 

Abruptly, he stepped into you and pushed you up against the wall, the hand railing digging into your back. He took your face between his hands and forced you to look at him. You gasped, the sound cut off by his mouth on yours, kissing you breathless. Desire exploded through you as you kissed him back, your intensity matching his, your hands knotting in his hair, tugging it.

He didn’t stop, even after the elevator doors slid open, he just pulled you out of the elevator and into the hall, shoving you against the wall, his body flush against yours, his arousal pressing into your lower stomach. You hummed, one of your legs curling around the back of his.

“Your place or mine?” you murmured against his lips.

“Sergeant Barnes, your presence is requested in the main conference room,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. 's voice filled the hall.

“Shit,” Bucky growled. He shook his head, even though the disembodied voice couldn’t see him. “I’m busy, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

“Captain Rogers is requesting that you report to the main conference room, immediately,” the artificial intelligence repeated firmly.

Bucky's hands dropped to his side, the metal one clenching, the gears grinding. He sighed heavily. "On my way." He took hold of your face and kissed you possessively. “I won’t be long.” His pupils were blown wide, nearly black with lust, only adding to the heat flooding your body.

You dragged in a stuttering breath and leaned against the wall. “I’ll wait here.”

He towered over you, one hand on either side of your head. “Do you have any idea what you do to me, doll? I’ve never felt like this with anyone, ever. It’s very...unsettling. You know I like to be in control, but around you, that just...disappears. It drives me crazy.”

“Sergeant Barnes?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. repeated.

Bucky sighed heavily, pushed away from the wall, turned, and stalked off. At the end of the hall, Natasha intercepted him, a smirk on her face as she looked your way, her hand on Bucky’s elbow. They disappeared around the corner.

You waited until your heart rate slowed and you were able to catch your breath before you pushed away from the wall and strolled down the hall. You were equal parts angry and turned on. You had to remind yourself that it was Steve that requested Bucky’s presence, not Natasha. 

There was a large game and entertainment room on this floor of the compound, complete with video game consoles, pinball machines, foosball, and billiard tables. You hadn’t explored it much, so you stepped inside, sticking close to the wall, your fingers trailing over the shelves, murmuring the titles of the games and movies stacked there.

You stopped at the bar, grabbed a beer, and kicked off your shoes before moving across the room, lingering at the pinball machines for a while, giggling to yourself at the one with the Iron Man theme in the corner. You played it a couple of times - not well, pinball had never been your thing - before you continued exploring, finally coming to a stop beside an expensive-looking billiard table. You rolled one of the balls across it, smiling as it hit the other ones on the table.

“You play?” Bucky asked from the doorway.

You jumped, the breath huffing out of you. “You scared me,” you snapped.

“Sorry,” Bucky laughed. “Have you played much pool?”

“A few times,” you lied.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, his head cocked to one side. “You’re lying,” he chuckled.

You ignored the comment. “Are you leaving?” you inquired.

“Leaving?” he repeated.

“The meeting?” You nodded vaguely in the direction of the conference room. “Do you have a mission?”

“The rest of the team is leaving,” he explained. “Since it’s so close to the Senate hearing, I’ve been tasked with staying here to watch over you.”

“Oh, really?” You couldn’t help but laugh. “Rough assignment.”

“I volunteered,” he smirked.

“Shocker,” you giggled. “So, it’s just you and me?”

Bucky’s face fell, contorting into an unreadable expression. He cleared his throat a couple of times before muttering ‘no’ barely loud enough for you to hear.

You huffed out an irritated breath. You knew exactly what his reluctance to answer meant. “Nat’s staying behind too, isn’t she?” you muttered.

“She offered,” Bucky sighed. “Stark thought it was a good idea. What was I supposed to say?”

“How about no?” you grumbled. “So, what, she’s our babysitter?”

“Look, Y/N, I made it very clear she was to steer clear of both of us. Period,” Bucky growled. “She promised.”

You rolled your eyes, mumbling under your breath. Bucky shifted uneasily from foot to foot, his hand clenching and unclenching, the two of you glaring at each other. Several uncomfortable minutes passed before you gave him a weak smile and pointed at the table. Might as well try and take your mind off your unwanted babysitter.

“You wanna play a game?” you asked, hoping to ease the tension.

“You and me? Seriously?” Bucky scoffed.

“What?” you demanded. “Afraid of a little competition?”

“Scared? Of you?” he snorted, an eyebrow cocked. “I don’t think so.”

“How about we make a bet?” you asked.

“You’re very sure of yourself, doll,” he smirked, amused and incredulous at once. “What would you like to bet?”

“If I win, you open that drawer you have in your room that hides all of those toys you’ve got,” you replied.

“Toys?” He acted shocked. “What toys?”

“Seriously, Bucky, you’re going to play coy? You know exactly what I’m talking about. The bottom drawer of your dresser where you keep all the sex toys. That drawer.”

“Okay, so, I open the drawer and -”

“And, you teach me some more...stuff.” You dropped your head, hiding your eyes, embarrassed.

“And if I win?” Bucky asked.

"Whatever you want," you shrugged. You had no idea what that might entail, but you were willing to find out and you thought you could handle whatever he had planned.

Bucky grinned, his expression heated. "Whatever I want?" he asked. "And you won't argue with me?"

You nodded. "Whatever you want and I promise not to argue."

“You know this is a win-win situation for me either way,” he laughed.

You tipped your head to one side, your smirk matching his. “You don’t think it is for me, too? So, do we have a deal or not?”

"Deal," he smirked. He was overly confident. You planned on wiping that smirk off his face.

Bucky rubbed his hands together as he turned toward the table. “All right then, let’s get started.”

You grabbed a pool cue while Bucky set up the table, praying that you would be able to concentrate on playing the game. Bucky had a way of distracting you.

“You want to break, Y/N?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said. You moved to the end of the table, Bucky just a few inches away from you. You took a deep breath, leaned over the table, and lined up your shot.

The game went on forever. At first, the balls dropped into the pockets one after the other, yours being some of the first to go. Then the game slowed down and neither of you could get anything to go where you wanted it to go. Eventually, it got to the point where you had just one ball left on the table and Bucky had two. Bucky was smiling and you suspected he was already celebrating, even though you were technically winning.

You lined up your next shot, sending up a silent prayer that you could sink the bright yellow ball and then the eight ball. The yellow ball cooperated, falling in the pocket you indicated, but the eight ball veered right and missed the pocket completely.

Bucky leaned over the table and without even appearing to look at what he was doing, he sunk the two balls left on the table and then the eight ball, a smirk lighting up his face.

You closed your eyes and tried to swallow, your mouth suddenly dry. You were very aware of Bucky - the way he was breathing, the way his hands caressed the pool cue, the way his eyes seemed to drag over your body, almost like he was touching you. You desperately wanted him closer and you were incredibly turned on just thinking about what he might have planned.

He dropped his cue, sauntered around the table, took the cue out of your hand, and set it aside. He put his hands on your hips, pulled you toward him, leaned over, and rubbed his nose against yours. He brushed a kiss across your lips, then he abruptly turned and crossed the room, pulling the pocket doors closed. When he turned back to you, his eyes dragging over the length of your body, his eyes were burning with need.

Bucky stalked back across the room, coming to a stop in front of you. “Do you wanna know what I’m gonna do to you, doll?” he murmured.

“Y-yes,” you stammered.

“I’m going to spank you,” he breathed. “I might be rough with you, doll, so you’ll have to stop me if it’s too much.” He ducked his head and pressed a kiss to the side of your neck. “Safeword?”

“Petunias,” you whispered. You were nervous, but excited, knowing where this was headed.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, smirking. He leaned over and pressed his cheek against yours, his lips next to your ear. “That’s my girl,” he grinned

His breath blew across your neck, making you shiver. He put his hands on your waist and turned you around, his hands sliding down your denim-clad ass, caressing it gently. He reached around you and unbuttoned your jeans and slid the zipper down, hooked his thumbs in the waistband and pulled them down just past the bottom of your ass, then he pushed you facedown on the pool table, your breasts pressed against it, your ass in the air.

Bucky rubbed his hand over the purple lace panties barely covering you, warmth flooding you from his touch. He leaned over you, his chest against your back. His fingers tangled in your hair, tugging slightly, pulling your head back.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” you said.

Bucky slapped your right buttcheek, hard enough to sting. You stifled your moan against your hand. Almost immediately, another slap landed on your left buttcheek, jolting you. You gasped and clutched the edge of the pool table as Bucky spanked you several more times, his metal hand burning against your soft skin. You were tingling everywhere and you could feel the slight dampness in your panties as desire pooled between your legs. A loud moan slipped past your lips.

Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you up against his chest. He caressed you, rubbing his hand over your stinging skin. He traced your hip bones around to your stomach, his fingers sliding into your panties.

“Mm, doll, you’re so wet for me,” he groaned as he teased you, his fingers dancing over you. He slipped a finger inside you, just to the knuckle. “Mm, you feel so good.” He pushed his finger deeper inside you, moving it in slow lazy circles as he brushed his thumb over your clit, drawing another moan from you.

You were grinding down on his fingers, your mind reeling as Bucky teased you, gripping the table so tight your knuckles ached. 

“Bucky, please,” you begged.

“I need you to hold on to that table, doll, and don’t squirm,” he ordered before kneeling in behind you and pulling off your jeans and panties. He ran his hands up and down your legs, caressing you, making you ache with need, barely able to keep yourself from whimpering and writhing under his touch.

“I told you not to squirm,” he growled, rising to his feet. 

Two fingers eased into you, pumping agonizingly slow. Desperate for more, you wiggled your hips, earning yourself a smack to your bare ass, startling you, pushing you into Bucky’s questing fingers, pain and pleasure mingling in the most intense way possible.

“I’m gonna fuck you, now, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured in your ear. “Don’t let go of that table.”

You heard him moving behind you, his belt buckle loosening, his zipper lowering and then his hands were on you, his cock brushing against your pussy. With one hard thrust, he entered you, burying himself deep inside you.

He had a tight grip on your hips, digging into your skin, no doubt bruising you as he slammed into you repeatedly, his cock brushing your sweet spot with each and every thrust. You pushed your hips back into him, your body begging for more, taking everything Bucky had to give you. He moaned low in his throat, pulled out of you almost completely, then he thrust forward, hard and deep, over and over, slowly, deliberately, dragging out the pleasure.

You scrambled for purchase, your nails scraping over the green felt, your body wound tight. His metal hand slid down your arm, his fingers lacing with yours, holding your hand as he pounded into you, increasing the rhythm, pushing you higher and higher, balancing you perfectly on the edge of sweet oblivion.

You were gasping, moaning Bucky’s name, completely at his mercy. You turned your head, and to your surprise, you saw Natasha standing partially obscured outside a half open door on the far side of the room. She was staring at you and Bucky, her cheeks drained of color, an unreadable expression on her face. At that moment, Bucky slammed into you, harder and deeper than before, his free hand sliding between your legs, one finger circling your clit, your body immediately responding, a soul-crushing orgasm exploding through you, a primal scream leaving you as you came. Through the haze of the intense pleasure rolling through you, you saw Natasha turn and hurry away.

You were vaguely aware of Bucky gasping your name, his fingers tightening around yours, just before he came, tensing and collapsing across your back. You fell forward, your head resting on your arms, your breath tearing in and out of your throat, exhausted. Exhausted in the best way possible.

“Thank you, doll,” he breathed, his lips drifting over your neck.

Bucky helped you to your feet, snatched your jeans and underwear off the floor, and handed them to you. You quickly pulled them on, Bucky waiting patiently beside you. 

He slung an arm around your shoulder, tucking you against his right side, and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Come on, I need food,” he said. “Sex always makes me hungry.”

You nodded and let him lead you out of the game room. You decided not to tell him about Natasha. He was in a good mood and you didn’t want to ruin it.


	12. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have an unexpected confrontation with Natasha. You and Bucky argue.

“Y/N?”

You jumped, water sloshing over the side of your glass and down the front of your shirt. You weren’t expecting to hear your name at four in the morning. You set the glass in your hand on the counter, grabbed the towel from beside the sink, and turned to look at the person who had said it.

Natasha was standing in the doorway, the hallway light backlighting her, accentuating her curves, her perfectly coiffed - really? at four a.m.? - hair, and her petite frame. A reminder that you were most certainly none of those things. You pushed a hand through your messy hair and tugged at the bottom of your shirt, desperately trying to hide your less than attractive thighs.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Well, it is four in the morning,” you groused, patting at the water on the front of your shirt. “I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone.” You dropped the towel to the counter, picked up your glass with shaking hands, and took a sip. What the hell did she want?

“You’re in the wrong place for that,” Natasha chuckled. “A lot of people live here with a lot of stuff that keeps them up at night.”

“Trust me, I know,” you murmured.

“I’m sure you do. Look, can we talk for a minute?” She gestured to the barstools at the counter.

You did as she asked out of stunned politeness, propping yourself on the edge of the barstool. You were grateful that it was mostly dark in the kitchen, otherwise, your face would reveal every emotion you were currently feeling and quite honestly, none of them were good

“I promise to be brief, Y/N,” she said. “I know what you think of me. It’s quite obvious.” Natasha glanced over her shoulder, then turned back to you. “Look, we don’t have long. I’m sure Bucky will come looking for you soon. You were with him, right?”

“Yes,” you nodded, unsure what she was getting at. You didn’t trust her. “But, you already knew that. I know you saw us last night.”

“That was an unfortunate accident, I swear,” Natasha muttered. She rubbed the center of her forehead with two fingers. “And far more than I ever wanted to see of you and Bucky. It certainly opened my eyes to how Bucky feels about you, though.”

“What do you mean, opened your eyes?” you asked.

She dragged in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “ I’ve never seen him like that, so...uninhibited, almost out of control. Bucky isn’t...he’s not...he doesn’t think he deserves to be loved,” she said. “I’m not sure he knows how to deal with someone caring about him. It’s hard for him. He doesn’t think he’s worthy.” She paused as if she was waiting for you to say something. When you didn’t, she continued. “I don’t understand why, but you seem to make him happy. And it’s obvious you have strong feelings for him.”

“I’m sorry?” you mumbled. “You don’t understand why I make him happy? What's so hard to understand?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” she shrugged. “I’m not trying to be a bitch, I swear, but, well, I...I just don’t get it. You’re not Bucky’s normal...type. I don’t get the appeal, I don't understand why he is so drawn to you.”

You pushed yourself to your feet. You should have known that talking to Natasha was a bad idea. It wasn’t like you didn’t doubt yourself every second of every day, and constantly wonder why Bucky seemed so enamored with you; Natasha verbalizing your feelings certainly didn’t help.

“I think this conversation is over,” you said firmly. You grabbed your glass of water, sipping it carefully, just to have something to do with your mouth. You were almost to the door when Natasha spoke again.

“Don’t hurt him, Y/N.” Her voice was cold, impersonal. “If you do, you will have to deal with me and it will  _ not _ be pleasant. I guarantee it.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, one hand on the door jamb, supporting yourself as your legs began to shake. Her threat took you by surprise; you had no idea Natasha’s feelings for Bucky were that strong. You pressed a hand to your mouth, swallowing around the lump rising in your throat. You hadn’t expected one of the world’s foremost assassins to threaten you.

“I would never hurt him,” you murmured. “I love him.”

You heard Nathasha’s sharp intake, but you refused to turn around and look at her. Instead, you stared straight ahead as you spoke.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than waste another minute of my time with you.” Anger and adrenaline, along with fear, were coursing through you as you stalked out the door and turned into the hall. You’d only gone a couple of steps when you heard Bucky call your name.

“There you are,” he muttered. “I was wondering where you disappeared to -” His mouth snapped shut as he passed the kitchen door and caught sight of Natasha inside.

You spun on your heel. You just wanted to go back to your room and try to sort out this mess in your head. You wondered briefly if Bucky would follow you or choose her. A second later his hand closed around your elbow.

“Y/N,” he said. “What’s wrong?” He stared down at you, concern etched in the lines of his face.

“Why don’t you ask your ex?” you hissed.

His mouth twisted and his blue eyes grew cold. “I’m asking you,” he said, his voice soft but with an undertone of something more menacing.

“Natasha’s threatening to come after me if I ever hurt you,” you snapped. “You need to keep your...your attack dog away from me.”

“I’ll talk to her,” he growled. “Right now.” He spun on his heel and disappeared into the kitchen.

You turned to leave, but something stopped you, made you step closer to the door and lean against the wall, listening to their conversation.

“What the fuck are you doing, Romanoff?” Bucky’s voice was low and menacing, scary.

“I’m just looking out for you, Buck,” you heard Natasha say. “I'm trying to keep you from getting hurt.”

“Y/N isn’t going to hurt me,” he muttered. “Let it go, Nat.”

“Does she know everything?” Natasha asked. “Have you told her everything? Told her about all of your issues?”

“I’m working on it,” Bucky replied.

“So, you haven’t,” Nat said. “She may not be able to handle it -”

“She loves me, Natasha,” Bucky cut her off. “She’ll understand.”

“Are you sure, Bucky? Really sure?”

“Enough, Nat,” he sighed. “She’ll understand. She loves me. I don’t have to play games with her. She’s not like you. I want you to leave her alone. Do you understand me?”

“What is her problem with me?” Nat mumbled.

“She’s jealous,” Bucky explained. “Of what we were. What we had.”

“Well, she needs to get over it,” Natasha grumbled.

“So do you,” Bucky snapped.

Natasha mumbled something incoherent, something you couldn’t quite understand. You weren’t sure you wanted to.

“You don’t miss it? What we had?” she asked Bucky.

“It’s in the past, Nat. Y/N is my now and hopefully, she’s my future. I won’t jeopardize it in any way.” Bucky replied. “You and me, we're just friends, colleagues, Nat, nothing more.”

“We used to be more,” Natasha argued. “I used to be what you needed.”

“Used to be,” Bucky bit out. “If you can’t deal with just being friends, then maybe we shouldn’t even be that.”

“I don’t want to lose you, Buck,” Natasha whispered, so quietly you barely heard her.

“You're going to if you can't lay off Y/N. I'll choose her every time, Nat” was his reply. “You need to remember that.”

You heard his footsteps crossing the room. You didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping, so you turned and scampered down the hall to your room. Bucky knocked on your door a few minutes later and stepped inside.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“You talked to her?” you asked.

“You heard?” he said.

"Yes," you nodded, wondering if the realization would anger him. You swallowed back your nerves and pushed on with what you wanted to ask. “What did she mean, have you told me everything?” You paused, waiting for him to say something. When he didn’t, you continued. “I know you have a lot of secrets, Bucky. Things you don’t want to talk about. But, Natasha is a thorn in my side. She may be your past, but unfortunately, she’s part of my present, and I need to work through my feelings about her. I need you to tell me about her, more than what you’ve told me. She seems awfully attached to you considering your relationship with her only lasted a short time.”

Bucky sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Why the fuck does it matter? We had a very brief affair, she beat the shit out of me, I beat the shit out of her, and I fucked her in all sorts of ways you can’t even imagine, end of the story.”

Shit, he was angry. Your intention had not been to make him angry, you just wanted to know, to understand. You bit your lower lip, blinking several times. You weren’t going to back down, not this time.

“Why are you so angry?”

“Because all of that shit is over,” he snapped, glowering at you. He sighed in exasperation and shook his head. He sat down beside you. “What do you want to know?” he asked wearily.

“I’m not trying to intrude, Bucky, I swear,” you murmured. “But she was obviously a big part of your life -”

“I know you’re not trying to intrude,” he muttered. “I just...I don’t like talking about this shit. Before you, I didn’t open myself up to anyone, with the exception of Steve.”

“And Natasha,” you added.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Maybe, yes. But not like I did - do - with Steve, or even with you. A lot of what Natasha knows about me came from my file, not because I shared it with her. There will always be a part of me I hold back from Nat.” He shrugged. “I’m trying not to do that with you. You just have to be patient with me.”

“She cares about you,” you mumbled.

“Yes, she does,” Bucky nodded. “And I care about her, in my own way. But, it doesn’t come close to how I feel about you. If that’s what this is about.”

“I’m not jealous,” you scoffed. You were wounded that he would think that. Or maybe that was what this was really about. You pushed the thought away, deciding that was something to examine at a later date. You squared your shoulders and forced yourself to ask the question that had been eating at you for a while.

“You said you cared about her," you murmured. "But, did you love her?"

“Maybe once I thought I did,” he said through gritted teeth. “But the feelings I have for Natasha are very different from what I feel for you.”

“Do you expect me to like her?” you blurted. God, your voice sounded bitter even to your own ears.

He sighed heavily and shook his head. "No. Though it would make my life a whole hell of a lot easier. I just...I don’t want you to let her come between us.”

“I’m trying,” you sighed.

“Try harder,” he said firmly, pushing himself to his feet. “I’m getting tired of this subject. I’m going to the gym.” He leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “Let it go. Please.”

“I can’t make any promises,” you muttered.

Bucky closed his eyes briefly as he struggled to contain his temper. 

“I have to go,” he said quietly, yanking open the door and stalking out.

* * *

You couldn’t go back to sleep, despite the early hour. You tried, but you could only toss and turn, everything that had transpired on a constant loop in your head. Around seven a.m. you gave up, got up, and got dressed. You locked yourself in your office and found some busy work to keep your mind occupied. Before you knew it, half of the day had passed, the rest of the team had returned from their mission, and you realized you hadn’t eaten anything. Mumbling to yourself, you pushed away from the desk and made your way through the halls to the elevator.

You’d just hit the button to go upstairs and the door was sliding closed when a metal hand appeared between the doors and they opened. Bucky stepped inside, smiling as soon as his eyes met yours.

“Hey, doll,” he murmured.

“Hi,” you whispered.

You hated that the two of you were fighting over Bucky’s relationship with Nat and quite frankly, you didn’t want to do it anymore. You took a deep breath and looked up at Bucky through your eyelashes. “I don’t want to fight anymore,” you whispered.

“Neither do I,” he murmured, inching closer to you.

You reached out and hooked your fingers in the waistband of his jeans, dragging him closer. “So, what do you say we  _ don’t _ fight anymore?”

“I like that idea,” Bucky chuckled. He grabbed you, his arms sliding around you, his lips on yours, a quiet groan leaving him. He pushed you backward until your back hit the wall, his mouth slanted over yours, his kiss hungry and desperate.

A chime echoed through the elevator as you passed another floor, prompting Bucky to reach over and flip open the access panel. He punched a code into the keypad then he hit a red button just below it. The elevator lurched to a halt, the lights automatically dimming, leaving the two of you in near darkness. He pressed his body against yours, his hands on your waist, slipping under your shirt, inching it up, his hands warm against your skin.

“Someone is going to catch us,” you murmured, your voice shaking with either nerves or desire, you weren’t sure which.

“Nobody is gonna catch us,” Bucky chuckled quietly. “They’re all in a debriefing for the mission. It’s just you and me for a while.” His hands slid up your side, his hand kneading your breast, plucking at your nipple through the thin lacy material of your bra while he sucked at the sensitive skin beneath your ear. He yanked up your skirt with his free hand, his fingers slipping into your underwear.

Your head fell back against the wall, a sigh leaving you as his metal finger slowly circled your clit and his mouth moved over your neck. He pulled the cup of your bra down, his entire hand now covering your breast, roughly massaging it. One finger slipped between your folds, wet with desire.

You palmed his cock, rubbing your hand over the front of his jeans. He growled low in the back of his throat, nipping at your throat. “Open my pants, doll. I need you to touch me.” His voice was thick and raw with want, the sound sending chills racing down your spine. 

You did as he asked, pushing his bothersome clothing down and taking him in your hand, stroking him hard and fast. Bucky groaned, his hips rocking, pushing himself into the tight circle of your fist. He eased another finger into you, caressing you, twisting them in a come hither motion that sent your mind reeling, his thumb circling your swollen clit. 

You moaned, grinding yourself against his questing fingers, fucking yourself on the thick vibranium digits, squirming with need, your hand sliding up and down his cock, pre-come coating your fingers. Your blood pounded in your ears and your breath tore in and out of your throat, your body thrumming with need, desperate for Bucky’s touch.

“Take them off,” Bucky demanded, his fingers brushing against your wet underwear as he pulled them free, stepping away from you.

You barely had a chance to slide them down your legs and kick them free before Bucky was picking you up, his hands under your ass, slamming you into the wall as he attacked your mouth, kissing you as if he hadn’t seen you in a month instead of a few hours. He held you with one arm, lined his cock up with your entrance and pushed into you, filling you completely. He braced himself with one hand on the wall, thrusting his hips hard and fast, a groan rumbling from deep in his chest. You wrapped your hands around his neck and tangled your fingers in his hair, biting your lip to hold back your screams of pleasure. Every muscle in your body tensed as a fire burned through you, the coil deep in the pit of your stomach snapping as you came, hard. Bucky’s hand slid up your back to your shoulder, pulling you down onto him, pounding into your several more times before he let go with a strangled gasp of your name.

He kissed you, slow and easy, before he set you on your feet. He snatched your underwear off the floor and handed them to you, holding your elbow as you struggled to put them on. Once you had them on, your skirt straightened, and your shirt put back in place, Bucky pressed a kiss to your forehead then he punched the combination into the keypad that started the elevator again. It rose with a jolt, startling you so that you stumbled and fell into Bucky’s arms. He laughed and hugged you close.

You dragged your fingers through your hair in a useless attempt to minimize that just-fucked look, mumbling under your breath about everyone knowing that you’d been fucked in the elevator. 

Bucky leaned over you, smirking. “Stop fussing,” he chuckled, buttoning his pants. “You look fine.”

The doors opened, and to your chagrin, Tony and Steve were standing in the hallway. Steve was shaking his head and laughing, his hand over his mouth, while Tony was glaring at Bucky.

“Don’t abuse your access code to the elevators, Barnes,” he growled. “Or I’ll take it away.”

You felt heat rising in your cheeks as you scurried past both Tony and Steve, trying not to make eye contact with either of them. You were going to kill Bucky for this.


	13. Handcuffs and Bullets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You explore the contents of Bucky’s “toy” drawer. He chooses one to use with you.

Bucky was on the gun range, again. Some recent adjustments to his arm had affected his aim, so he was spending more time on the range, trying to perfect it. Two or three times a day, promising he would get it, eventually, though it left you alone for a couple of hours at a time every night.

You’d showered and dressed in old sweats and one of Bucky’s t-shirts. You were spending the night in Bucky’s apartment, which you found yourself doing more often than not, but you were bored. You didn’t want to read or watch television, concerned you would fall asleep before Bucky returned. You decided that tonight, you would stay awake until Bucky returned so that the two of you could spend some time together with no distractions. That left you wandering around his apartment, trying to find something to do that would keep you occupied for an hour or so. You finally dropped to the floor in front of Bucky’s drawer of toys and pulled it open.

You’d seen Bucky in and out of this drawer multiple times over the last few weeks, but you’d never actually looked inside yourself. An array of instruments and bizarre gadgets you’d never seen before were laid out inside. You had no idea what they were or what they were for - most of them hadn’t come out of the drawer yet. You picked one up, egg-shaped, connected to a remote by a cord of some kind. You turned it over in your hand and pressed the button on the remote, making it vibrate in your hand.

“What are you doing, doll?” Bucky murmured from the doorway.

You jumped and switched off the vibrating egg, feeling like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “H-hi,” you smiled nervously. “I-I was curious -”

He slowly entered the room, closing the door behind him, his blue eyes dark with something indescribable. “What exactly are you curious about?” he asked, his head tipping to one side, his lips twitching in amusement.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I feel like I’m trespassing and I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you,” he chuckled, sitting beside you on the floor. “What do you want to know?”

“What’s this?” you asked, holding up the small vibrating egg.

“That is called a bullet vibrator,” he explained patiently.

“Is it for me...or for you?” you murmured, heat flooding your cheeks.

“Well, it can be for both of us,” Bucky grinned. His voice dropped an octave, thick and sultry. “I could show you.”

Need curled deep in your gut, twisting around you, making you squirm. “Right now?” you whispered.

“Of course, right now.” Bucky reached past you and pulled a pair of handcuffs from the drawer. “These, too. Okay?”

“Okay,” you breathed.

“I promise you’ll like it,” he purred, his raw need for you so clear that you felt your heart leap in anticipation. Bucky pushed himself to his feet, the toys and a bottle of lube in his hand. He tossed them on the bed, then he took your hand, pulling you to your feet and into his arms. “And I promise if you don’t like it or anything we do, we’ll stop. Immediately. Just say the word.”

“Petunias,” you nodded.

“Petunias,” Bucky chuckled, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. He tugged at your clothes, pushing down your sweatpants and pulling his t-shirt over your head. He led you to the bed, his lips never leaving yours.

You stretched out across the bed, while Bucky knelt between your legs. He hooked his thumbs in your underwear and pulled them down. He tossed them over his shoulder, grinning wickedly at you as he removed his own clothes. He leaned over you, drawing you into a long, deep kiss, one hand caressing your breast, while he used the other to pick up the handcuffs. He closed them first around one wrist, slid the chain around the post on the headboard, and finally around the other wrist, locking you in place.

“Too tight?” he asked.

You shook your head, not trusting your voice to work correctly when you were both nervous and turned on at the same time.

Bucky’s hand slid down your stomach and between your legs, a groan leaving you when his fingers caressed the lips of your pussy, your hips rising off the bed toward his fingers. He moved down your body, his kisses hot, wet, and open-mouthed. By the time his head was between your legs, you were writhing with need. Two fingers slid into you, pumping slowly, massaging your inner walls. His tongue snaked out and slowly licked you, a moan escaping him as your taste flooded his mouth.

You could feel Bucky fumbling with something between your legs, then you felt something cold, wet, and round slipping inside of you. Already on edge, your nerves frayed, your immediate reaction was to tense up and push yourself away from him.

Bucky smiled at you, his blue eyes sparkling, his metal hand splayed across your stomach. “I got you, doll,” he murmured. “I promise to take care of you. You gotta trust me, okay?”

You nodded, relaxing into the bed. You took a deep breath and squeezed your eyes closed. Bucky placed gentle kisses all over your stomach, hips, and thighs, distracting you as he eased the bullet inside of you.

Bucky’s lips closed around your clit, sucking gently as he turned the bullet on, the sudden vibration taking you by surprise, drawing a loud gasp from you. The combination of Bucky’s mouth and the vibrating bullet inside of you pushed you right up to the edge within seconds.

“Oh my God,” you moaned.

Bucky pulled your legs over his shoulders, his hands on your hips, bringing you to his mouth. His tongue slid into you, fucking you, the bullet slowly vibrating. You moaned obscenely, yanking on the cuffs, wanting nothing more than to grab his head and hold him tight against your aching pussy. Your hips bucked as you rode his tongue, undulating and writhing, desperate for more.

“Oh fuck, yes,” you groaned, grinding against his face.

Bucky hummed, a hungry, needy sound. He thrust two fingers inside of you, the movement pressing the vibrating bullet against your g-spot.

That was all it took and you were gone, coming so hard you felt as if fireworks were exploding inside of you. You held onto the headboard slats, riding out the orgasm as multiple waves of pleasure rushed over you, every muscle tensing, every nerve on fire, barely able to breathe. You’d never felt anything like it, never had an orgasm like it, not even with all of the things you and Bucky had done. This took pleasure to an entirely new level.

Bucky released you, though his mouth continued roaming over your thighs and hips, his fingers still inside of you, the bullet still vibrating. Your thighs were trembling, your stomach muscles jumping, your breath tearing in and out of your chest, and you weren’t sure you could handle much more.

Bucky moved up your body, sucking, licking, and nibbling, his lips closing around your breast, teasing the nipple with his teeth and tongue. By the time he reached your mouth, you were whimpering helplessly, yanking at the cuffs, desperate to touch him.

“You okay?” he whispered in your ear.

You nodded weakly. “Jesus Christ, Buck,” you gasped. “That was -”

“What?” he laughed. “You’re not enjoying yourself?” He pushed his hips against yours, his hard cock sliding against your pussy, the vibrator inside you jostling unexpectedly but oh...so deliciously. You rocked your hips, unashamedly rubbing against him, another moan sneaking past your lips. His hands and his mouth were all over your body, pushing you right up to the cusp of another orgasm.

Bucky kissed you, a glorious, deep kiss that just added to the intense feelings rushing through you. He rose to his knees, pushed your legs open, and grabbed you, lifting your hips off the bed. He guided himself to your entrance and eased into you.

Your eyes squeezed closed and you momentarily forgot to breathe as your body adjusted to the unexpected feeling of fullness caused by having both Bucky and the bullet inside you. He didn’t move though, just held your hips until you opened your eyes and nodded at him.

Only then did he move, flexing his hips just a little, causing the bullet to shift, its vibrations stimulating you in ways you’d never imagined possible. He did it again, and your hips jerked, desperate for more. Bucky knew your body better than even you, knew instinctively what you wanted, so he started to move in a steady rhythm, the bullet vibrating against his cock with every thrust.

Everything was a blur of sensations after that - Bucky thrusting into you repeatedly, the bullet’s vibrations, the sound of skin sliding against skin, the intense pleasure overwhelming you, the coil in the pit of your stomach tightening as you raced toward another orgasm.

Bucky’s fingers dug into your skin as his movements became more and more erratic until he was blindly slamming into you, his head thrown back, eyes shut, low grunts of satisfaction rumbling from his chest. He pressed two fingers against your clit, massaging it roughly, holding you tight, buried deep inside you as he climaxed. You tipped over the edge, another orgasm consuming you.

Bucky leaned over you, kissing you tenderly as you were lying sprawled on the bed, a boneless mess. He switched off the bullet and gently removed it, tossing it aside, then he grabbed the keys to the cuffs from the bedside table and unlocked them. He massaged your wrists, brushing soft kisses over the marks left by you repeatedly tugging at them. Once you were free, he pulled you into his arms, hugging you to his chest.

You sighed and snuggled against him, careful to only touch those spots he’d said you could. “That was awesome,” you murmured.

“Hmm, so you liked it?” he whispered. You could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

You nodded, too exhausted to speak again.

“See,” he chuckled. “I always keep my promises, doll.”


	14. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise car ride with Bucky turns into so much more than you ever expected.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

You looked up to see Bucky standing in the doorway. You dropped your pen to the desk and smiled. “Hey, yourself,” you replied. “What’s up?”

“You wanna get out of here?” he asked, tipping his head toward the window.

“Sure,” you shrugged. “What are you thinking? Walk the grounds? Movie night in the game room?”

“You want to go for a drive?” he grinned.

Your heart pounded and your stomach did a weird flip. You’d been cooped up in the compound for so many weeks, more than you could count, that you were going a little bit stir crazy. In fact, you hadn’t left since dinner at the Tower. You were still on lockdown. But if Bucky could get you out, even for a little while…

“Are you joking?” you murmured, your eyes narrowing, scared that he was just teasing you.

“No,” he laughed. “Stark got an Alfa Romeo 8c that I want to break in. Thought you’d like to come with me.”

“I’d  _ love _ to come with you,” you giggled, jumping out of your chair and hurrying to his side.

Bucky took your hand and tugged you into his arms. He brushed a kiss across your lips, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Does Tony know that you’re taking his car for a drive?” you asked.

“Not exactly,” he smirked.

You laughed and followed Bucky to the underground garage, your hand in his. Parked in front of one of the large garage doors was a beautiful red car. You didn't know much about cars, but you knew that not only was it one sexy looking car, but it looked like it could move. You couldn't wait to find out. Bucky snatched the keys off of the holder by the door and opened the passenger side door for you. You eased inside and buckled your seatbelt. A few seconds later, Bucky was in the driver’s seat, revving the engine, the wicked smirk on his face growing larger every time the engine growled. He pushed a button inside the car, opening a door on the far side of the huge garage, then he hit the gas, the tires squealing as the car leaped forward and burst out of the garage.

The car flew down the long driveway, slowing only long enough to allow the gates at the end of the road to slide open, then Bucky punched it and you were flying. An excited squeal escaped you and you couldn’t help but smile.

Bucky was an incredible driver; the way he handled the car astonished you. It was as if the Alfa Romeo was an extension of himself, driving with his left hand, the right holding yours, letting go only to shift gears then grabbing your hand again.

You leaned your head back and closed your eyes, letting yourself enjoy the few moments you had alone with Bucky, no longer trapped inside the compound, afraid to even venture outside for fear that HYDRA was lurking around every corner.

Bucky squeezed your hand. “You okay, doll?” he asked.

“I’m perfect,” you sighed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, lifting your hand to kiss the back of it.

The road in front of you was wide open and Bucky took full advantage, revving the engine up to an ungodly speed, the powerful car obeying his every command, weaving through traffic, hugging the curves, flying over the road. Within twenty minutes, he was slowing to drive through the sleepy little town north of the compound, a drive that he said normally took almost an hour.

You wished you could stay, maybe walk through the park, get some ice cream, normal stuff that normal couples did, but of course, you and Bucky weren’t exactly normal. It wouldn't be safe. Once you reached the outskirts of town, Bucky made a quick u-turn and headed back the way you’d came. You were almost out of the city, close to the freeway, heading back toward the compound when you spoke up.

“Do you...do you think I could drive?”

Bucky shot a glance your way, before looking back at the road. “Can you drive a stick?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I learned to drive on my dad’s old truck. Please, Bucky?”

Bucky glanced in the rearview mirror, then, the decision apparently made, he whipped to the right, pulled onto the shoulder, dropped the car into neutral, and engaged the emergency brake. He pushed open the door and stepped out.

You scrambled to get out and ran around the back of the car, giggling wildly. Bucky held the driver’s side door open for you and gestured for you to get in.

“Are you sure?” you asked, still slightly stunned that he agreed to let you drive.

“Yes,” he nodded. “Now get in before I change my mind.”

Another giggle escaped you, your hands clasped in front of you. You were bouncing on your toes as you surged up and pressed a kiss to his lips.

Bucky laughed and pointed at the car. “Get in, doll.”

Once you were in, the door firmly closed behind you, Bucky hurried around to the passenger side and jumped in.

You glanced in the rearview mirror and to your surprise, saw a black SUV pulling up and parking behind the Alfa Romeo. You glanced curiously at Bucky.

“Security,” he said. “Sam and Clint.”

You nodded. You should have known that Bucky wouldn’t risk your safety for a car ride, even if you were safer with him than anyone else. You took a deep breath, put the car in first gear, and eased onto the road. You managed not to stall it, surprising yourself, especially since you’d never driven a car as powerful as this one before.

“You sure about this?” you asked one more time.

“Yes,” Bucky muttered. You weren't sure you believed him.

You laughed, a high pitched nervous, but excited giggle, a sound you hadn’t made in months, maybe even years. A part of you, the "I don't give a shit" part of you, briefly wondered if you could lose Sam and Clint. It might be fun to try. You inched onto the road, trying not to laugh at Bucky who had a death grip on the door handle. You weren’t sure what came over you, but the road was clear, so you pressed the gas, a startled giggle leaving you when the car shot forward.

“Whoa, Y/N,” Bucky said through gritted teeth. “Take it easy, doll. You trying to kill us?"

You immediately slowed down, dropping to a more reasonable speed. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Bucky smirking.

“If I didn’t know better,” he said calmly. “I’d think you were trying to get yourself in trouble.”

“If I were to get myself in trouble, what might that entail?” you grinned.

"Oh sweetheart, I think you know exactly what I would do,” Bucky mumbled.

"Punish me?" you murmured, need and desire twisting through you.

"For starters," Bucky growled. Before he could say anything else, he swore under his breath and yanked his phone from his pocket.

“What?” he snapped at whoever was on the other end of the line. He shifted, his face changing, turning serious. “No.” He glanced out the rear window, then back at the road. “Tell me.”

You checked the rearview mirror, but you didn’t see anything that seemed out of place. There were a few cars behind you, including the black SUV.

Tension rolled off of Bucky in waves. Without even realizing it, you eased off the gas, slowing considerably as you contemplated what could be happening.

“Hold on.” Bucky lowered the phone from his ear. “Don’t stop, doll. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

He returned the phone to his ear. “Okay, once we hit 210, we’ll do it. Yeah, I'll call you back.” He dropped the phone in his lap.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?”

“Just watch where you’re going, doll,” he said softly. “I don’t want you to panic, okay? You have to try to stay calm. As soon as we get to the 210, to that exit we took, the second we are on the 210, I want you to hit the gas but instead of going straight, take the southbound exit, the bridge over the river. We’re being followed.”

Your heart lurched into your mouth, fluttering like crazy, your blood pounding in your ears. All of your senses went into overdrive, a sense of deja vu coming over you. They’d found you. HYDRA. Your adrenaline spiked. You’d been here before, on the run, doing your best to escape the insanity that was HYDRA. You weren’t surprised they’d found you again. You couldn’t hide from an organization like theirs. It was impossible. They wanted you dead and nothing would stand in their way. Your eyes darted to the mirror again, and sure enough, there was a blue sedan behind you, following closer than it should have been, changing lanes whenever you did. You tried to see through their tinted windshield, tried to see who was driving, but you couldn’t make out anything.

“Keep your eyes on the road, doll,” Bucky murmured.

“How...how do you know we’re being followed?” you whispered. You silently prayed that Sam or Clint was mistaken, that they were just being overly cautious.

“The plates on that car behind us don’t belong to it,” he said matter-of-factly. “Sam thinks it’s stolen.”

You didn’t bother to ask how Bucky knew that, you were too busy concentrating on driving. You felt like you were balanced on the head of a pin, and you couldn’t fall, you absolutely couldn’t. It was the panic that would kill you or get you hurt. You knew this, you remembered. You could not panic. You took a deep breath, desperate to get your nerves under control. You dragged in another breath, and this time, your mind began to clear and your stomach settled. You’d wanted to drive this car and you’d wanted to drive it fast. This was your chance. You gripped the steering wheel and took one more glance in the rearview mirror. The blue sedan was closing in on you. 

You slowed down, ignoring Bucky’s panicked glance, and timed your entrance to the 210, forcing the blue sedan to slow down as well, practically coming to a stop as it waited for traffic to clear. You dropped down a gear and floored it. The Alfa Romeo shot forward, slamming both of you back into your seats. The speedometer hit seventy-five miles per hour. You shifted again, turned the wheel to the right, shot between two cars, the sound of squealing brakes following you as you took the exit Bucky had indicated. 

“Steady, Y/N,” Bucky murmured, his voice instantly calming you.

You watched Bucky out of the corner of your eye as you wove between the lines of traffic, doing your best to ignore the irritated looks from other drivers.

Bucky’s phone lit up, so he snatched it off his lap. “Go,” he snarled. He seemed to be listening carefully. “No, Y/N’s fine. As long as the traffic stays like this, we'll be off the bridge in a couple of minutes.”

The halfway point of the bridge flashed by; not much further. You checked your speed and noticed you were doing nearly ninety.

“You’re doing fine, doll,” Bucky mumbled. He was turned sideways in his seat, his eyes on the road behind you.

For a fleeting moment, his tone reminded you of the first time he’d tied you to his bed, when he’d patiently shown you that side of him he kept carefully hidden. You quickly pushed those thoughts aside before they distracted you. You needed to stay focused.

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“We’re taking a roundabout way back to the compound,” Bucky said. “We want to see if the sedan follows us all the way.”

“All the way,” you whispered. You didn’t want to lead them back to the one place you felt safe. You glanced nervously at Bucky, but he smiled reassuringly.

“You have to trust me, doll,” he whispered.

“With my life,” you nodded, refocusing on the road. The traffic in front of you had slowed, so you downshifted, crossed two lanes of traffic, whipped around a car driving insanely slow, then you punched it, accelerating back up to seventy. “What if it’s just some random car?”

"I can't take that chance," Bucky snapped. “Not where you’re concerned.” He hit a button on his phone and set it down, his eyes still on the road behind you.

“The sedan cleared the traffic and picked up speed,” Sam’s disembodied voice floated from Bucky’s phone, calm and informative. “Buck, he’s catching up.”

“Shit,” you muttered. You pressed the gas and the car purred, jumping to ninety-five miles an hour within seconds. 

“Keep it up, sweetheart. You’re doing great,” Bucky murmured. “Once we’re off the bridge, get in the left lane.”

You slowed momentarily as you came off the bridge and onto the interstate. You darted through the slower traffic, weaving in between the cars, once again ignoring the dirty looks and irritated taps to the horns by the other drivers.

“Buck,” Sam said. “He’s gaining on you.”

“Stay with him,” Bucky barked. “Do not lose him.”

A truck lurched into the fast lane but instead of slamming on the brakes, you whipped the wheel to the left, driving onto the shoulder, passing the truck and its idiot driver.

You checked the driver's side mirror before yanking the wheel to the right and darting in front of the offending truck, cutting across two lanes to the center lane.

“Nice move, Y/N,” Bucky murmured appreciatively. “Where’s the sedan, Sam?”

“Closing fast, Buck,” Sam answered.

Your stomach dropped and for a minute the world swam out of focus. Bucky’s hand settled on your thigh, squeezing gently. His touch grounded you. You shifted again, pushed on the gas pedal, and streaked past the traffic.

“Get off on the next exit,” Bucky barked at you. “Sam, Clint, did you get that?”

“Yeah, next exit,” Clint replied. “Head straight for the compound, Steve and Tony are waiting.”

"Listen to me, Y/N," Bucky murmured, leaning close to you. "I don't want you to signal or anything. In fact, I want you to wait until the last possible second to get off. Can you do that for me?"

"I-I think so," you nodded.

You took a deep breath, your eyes darting from the exit to your mirrors, to the surrounding traffic, and back to the exit. You waited until you couldn't possibly wait any longer, then you hit the gas and crossed all three lanes of traffic, cutting off at least five other vehicles as you moved through the traffic to the exit, the side of the car just missing the guardrail on the driver's side. You didn't breathe until you hit the bottom of the exit ramp.

Following Bucky’s directions, you turned right, then left, following a quiet road north, into the mountains where you knew the compound was located. You’d never gone this way before.

“Update, Sam,” Bucky ordered.

“Sedan just exited the interstate,” Sam said. “We don’t think he knows which way you went. Tony wants you to take the underground ramp.”

“Copy that,” Bucky answered, hanging up the phone. “Y/N, in about a hundred yards, you’re going to make a sharp right, then drive straight, no matter what you see just keep driving.”

You did as he instructed, barely slowing as you turned, spinning the wheel in your hand, holding the center console as you turned, then pressing the gas, the car shooting forward, heading directly for a wall of trees.

“Bucky -”

“Just drive, Y/N,” Bucky ordered.

You closed your eyes at the last second, convinced that you had just driven yourself and Bucky right to your deaths, tangled around one of the sturdy oaks in front of you. But well after you should have felt the impact and heard the screech of metal, you opened your eyes. Your foot was on the gas, Bucky’s hand on the wheel, the car miraculously descending down into some kind of tunnel. You glanced in the rearview mirror to see the road literally disappearing behind you.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured. He pointed ahead. “Up there, swing left and park it in the back corner.”

You downshifted, easing off the gas, finally coming to a stop right where Bucky had indicated. You turned off the car, pulled out the keys, and dropped them in the center console with shaking hands.

“You okay?” Bucky asked.

“I-I don’t know,” you mumbled.

"You were amazing, doll," Bucky whispered. He cupped the back of your head and kissed your forehead. "Where'd you learn to drive like that?"

"You learn a lot when you're on the run," you mumbled. A bone-wrenching shudder worked its way through you and a strangled sob worked its way out of you and you burst into tears.

“Hey, doll, no. Please don’t cry.” Bucky reached over, easily lifted you, and dragged you into his lap. He kissed your eyes, your jaw, then your cheeks, and finally your mouth as you wrapped your arms around him and sobbed quietly against his neck, huge gasping sobs that you’d been holding back for more than two years.

Bucky held you tight, murmuring soft, calming words in your ear. After a few minutes, you pulled away and wiped the tears off of your face.

“Sorry,” you muttered, embarrassed that you’d been crying.

“Don’t be,” he whispered. He tipped your chin up and planted a gentle kiss on your lips. He rested his forehead on yours, his fingers trailing up and down your back.

“Kiss me again,” you sighed.

Bucky froze, one hand on your back, the other resting on the curve of your ass.

“Kiss me,” you breathed.

“Barnes!” Tony’s voice echoed off the thick cement walls.

Bucky sighed, mumbled ‘later’ under his breath, and shoved open the car door. Steve was standing right there, arms crossed over his chest, Tony just a few feet behind him, looking unbelievably angry.

“Steve,” Bucky said.

“Buck,” his friend nodded at him. “That was close. Nice driving, Y/N. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. 

“Can I talk to you, Barnes?” Tony interrupted. “Now.”

Steve helped you from the car and Bucky climbed out behind you. He stepped around you, brushing a kiss across your cheek. “Steve, will you take her to her room? I’ll see you in a few minutes, doll.”

Steve took your elbow and guided you to the elevator, stepping inside with you. 

“Is Mr. Stark angry?” you asked Steve as the doors slid closed.

“A little,” Steve shrugged. “He’ll get over it. You okay?”

“No,” you mumbled. “I guess...living here for the last few months, I forgot the reason I was here. I forgot that HYDRA was trying to kill me. It just all came rushing back.” You swiped at the unexpected tears streaming down your face.

“Do you need to see Dr. Cho?” he asked quietly.

“No, just...I just want to lie down.”

Steve walked you to your room, making sure you were safely inside before he took his leave. You dropped to the end of the bed, your head in your hands, waiting for Bucky.

* * *

You were pacing the floor in front of the bed, glancing at the door every few seconds, wondering where Bucky could be. It had been almost twenty minutes since Steve had walked you to your room. You were on edge, twitchy, your nerves raw. When the door opened and Bucky stepped into your room, you flew into his arms, knocking him back several steps.

“Whoa, doll,” he chuckled, pushing the door closed behind him. He took a step back, holding you at arm’s length, his brows furrowing with concern when he saw the look on your face. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

You shook your head, your mouth opening then snapping closed. You took a deep breath and then you were telling Bucky how you felt, the words pouring out of you. “I-I don’t know,” you sighed, on the verge of tears again. “I didn’t realize how scared I was until I was sitting in here alone, remembering how alone I  _ used _ to be, how I fought to stay alive every day for two years and I didn’t have anybody, Bucky, nobody was there for me, and...and...today, you and Sam and Clint, and even Steve and Tony, you guys were there when I needed you, looking at for me, and you were so calm, and I...I...I’m so scared I’m going to lose it all.”

You fell into his arms, your face pressed to his chest, your tears dampening the front of his shirt. Bucky held you, pressing gentle kisses to the top of your head. You looked up at him, your fingers tangled in his hair, an overwhelming urge to kiss him coming over you.

“You promised you’d kiss me later,” you murmured.

The corner of his mouth tipped up in a decided smirk. “I did,” he nodded.

“So, do it.”

Bucky’s mouth slanted over yours, his tongue pushing past your lips and into your mouth. He spun you around, pushing you backward until your back hit the wall, his body flush against yours, his hands all over you. You groaned, the sound lustful and decadent, filling the small room. Something snapped inside of you, an insane craving for Bucky twisting through every nerve ending. You needed him.

“Bucky,” you gasped, shoving at his clothes, yanking his shirt free of his pants and fumbling with the buttons on his jeans.

“Tell me what you want, doll,” he growled. “I want to hear you say it.” He held your chin in his hand, his thumb and forefinger on your cheeks, squeezing just a little. “Say it.”

“Fuck me,” you moaned. “I want you to fuck me.”

Fabric tore as Bucky impatiently ripped your blouse from your body and dropped it to the floor, then he ripped open the button of your jeans and pushed them down your legs. You kicked them away as he shoved his hand into your underwear and between your legs, dragging his thumb over your clit. His fingers moved between your legs, easing into you as he sucked and bit the sensitive skin on your throat, marking you. He released you just long enough to shove his pants down and off, then he picked you up and held you against the wall, grinding against you, his cock, still trapped behind the soft cotton of his boxers, pressing against your warm core. His lips moved down your neck to your breast, biting the nipple hard enough to hurt, sucking it into his mouth, drawing a startled gasp from you.

You were wrecked with desire, you breath tearing in and out of your throat, your entire body burning with need. Within minutes, Bucky was three fingers deep in your pussy, the palm of his hand against your clit, scissoring you open, his metal arm around your back, holding you up as you fell apart in his arms.

The orgasm slammed into you, rushing through every inch of you, one of the most intense you’d ever had. Bucky groaned in your ear, his hard length brushing against your leg. Once he finally set you on your feet, you came to your senses enough to hook your fingers in the waistband of his boxers and push them down his legs, the tip of his cock brushing against your stomach, smearing you with his arousal. A deep, rumbling growl left him when you took him in your hand, the sound making your walls clench around his fingers.

Bucky kicked his boxers away and lifted you, carrying you with him to the end of the bed. He set you on your feet in front of him, cupped your cheeks, and kissed you breathless.

“Turn around, doll,” he ordered. “We’re gonna try something new.”

You did as he asked without hesitating, his words sending a tendril of warm heat worming through your belly and a needy whine from you. Bucky put his hands on your waist and pulled you backward, lowering you into his lap.

“Put your hands on my knees,” he murmured, slipping his arm around your waist, the other around your chest, his flesh hand resting on your breast. “We’re gonna start slow, doll, give you a chance to figure this out, get used to it.”

You leaned forward and braced your hands on Bucky’s knees as he eased into you from behind, rocking yourself back and forth on his length, taking your time, Bucky guiding you, his cock sliding in and out of your slick pussy, brushing against your sweet spot each time. You gnawed on your lower lip, shuddering each time you took his thick length deep inside you, the sensations overwhelming you. 

Bucky kept his hand resting on your chest, just below your neck. He was grunting and groaning, his metal hand on your waist squeezing and releasing, bruisingly tight, as you rode his cock. Bucky leaned over you, his chest pressed against your back, holding you tight, the shift of his body burying his cock even deeper inside you, his breath hot against your ear.

“I’m gonna put my hand on your throat, baby,” he murmured. “I promise I’m not gonna hurt you. Do you trust me?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered.

Bucky’s hand slid from your breast to your neck, his palm resting on your throat, his thumb and fingers tightening noticeably just below your jaw as he continued thrusting. All the noise in your brain - the fear, the terror, the uncertainty - all of it shut down, your mind focusing on the smallest details, like the soft hairs on Bucky’s legs brushing against your skin, the slight scruff on his face scratching your back, the swell and pulse of his cock as he moved inside you.

“More?” he asked.

You nodded, not exactly sure what you were getting yourself into, but knowing that you liked whatever it was that Bucky was doing. You wanted to see where he would take you.

Bucky squeezed your throat, cutting off your airflow. There was a brief moment of panic, a moment when your body wanted to react as the victim of a violent act; a moment in which you wanted to lash out and fight, fight as you had for the last two years. But all of that was overshadowed by an erotic high, a rush that had your heart beating faster and harder, a sense of danger coupled with a loss of control. You found yourself wanting it, needing it, craving it. 

Bucky’s hand on your throat loosened, just enough for you to pull in a tiny gulp of air, while his metal hand slid down your stomach between your legs to your clit, pinching and tugging it, then letting it go and rubbing it in a circular motion. His lips were roaming over your back, across your shoulders, and over your neck, his hard shaft buried inside you, every tilt of his hips sending a flurry of sensations rocketing through you.

Your head fell forward and he squeezed your throat harder, your entire body trembling, black spots filling your vision as the flow of oxygen ceased, your body completely his as he fucked you, slamming into you over and over. You dug your nails into the skin of his thighs with every thrust, with every brush of his cock against your sweet spot, every touch of his fingers to the swollen nub of nerves lighting your body on fire. Another squeeze of his hand and you stopped breathing, all air gone, your walls swelling and tightening around him as you came, your slick drenching his cock.

Bucky came with a low, hoarse cry, his cock jerking deep inside you, his hands clamping down, tight, hard, painfully. Exquisitely, beautifully, painfully, the rush of pleasure so intense you were dizzy with it.

Bucky’s arms wrapped around you, his forehead resting on your back, gentle kisses brushing across your skin every few seconds. His hand slid off your neck to your breast, his thumb dancing in circles around your breast, his touch tender. Goosebumps covered you as the cool air hit your sweat-drenched skin and you shivered.

Without a word, Bucky reached behind himself and grabbed the blanket folded in the center of the bed and pulled it around you. He lowered the two of you to the bed, hugging you to his chest, holding you gently as you curled up against him. His fingers softly caressed the red marks you knew were on your neck, and every so often he would press a kiss to your jaw, your pulse point, or your lips, always gentle, always sweet. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

You were half asleep, satisfied and content, but Bucky’s words pulled you from sleep. 

“What? Why?” you asked.

“I shouldn’t have put you in danger like that,” he sighed. “It was stupid.”

“You didn’t do anything,” you murmured. “I’m a target. HYDRA wants me dead. I’ll never be safe.”

Bucky’s arms tightened around you. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, doll. I’d die before I let you get hurt.”

Fresh tears filled your eyes. You pressed your face against Bucky’s shoulder, the one without scars, and let him comfort you. You hoped you never had to find out if that was true.


	15. The Past Won’t Stay Buried

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone from your past shows up at the Compound.

“Sergeant Barnes, please report to conference room A,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. 's voice interrupted from the overhead speakers.

Bucky broke off the kiss with a groan, his hand under your shirt, the fingers of his metal hand tangled in your hair. He released you, took a step backward and pushed a hand through his hair.

“Right now, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” he grumbled. “I’m kind of busy.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied. “Your presence is requested. As is Ms. Y/L/N’s.”

“What?” you murmured.

“Captain Rogers is requesting that  _ both _ of you report to conference room A,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said.

One of Bucky’s eyebrows arched, his head tipped to one side, a question in his blue eyes. “Tell him we’ll be right there,” he answered.

“Yes sir,” the A.I. responded.

Bucky grabbed your hand and dragged you close. “Wonder what that’s about?” he whispered before kissing you again. He kept your hand in his as he led you from his room through the halls to the large conference room at the north end of the compound, pushing open the door and ushering you in ahead of him. 

“Y/N!”

You froze, the voice taking you back two years. It seemed as if everything was moving in slow motion, your head turning, mouth falling open, eyes widening as the man at the table rose from his seat and came toward you. The next thing you knew, he was pulling you into his arms, his face buried against the side of your neck.

“Jesus Christ, we all thought you were dead,” he mumbled. “You just vanished off the face of the earth.” 

“H-Harvey,” you stammered as you tried to extricate yourself from the arms of the man you hadn’t spoken to in two years. “What...what are you doing here?”

“Who the fuck is this?” you heard Bucky mutter behind you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Steve take Bucky’s arm and pull him aside, whispering furiously. You did not like the look on Bucky’s face, a mixture of irritation and pure rage. Meanwhile, Harvey took your hand in his, guiding you to a chair at the table. He was talking, but you weren’t really hearing what he was saying; words weren’t registering through the shock of seeing Senator Sheldon Wilner’s son - and your former boyfriend - sitting in the Avengers Compound.

“I-I don’t understand what’s going on,” you interrupted him, looking toward Captain Rogers for an explanation.

“God, I’m so sorry,” Harvey said. “Of course you have no idea what’s going on.” He shot a look at the other side of the table where Pepper and Tony were seated. You hadn’t even noticed them.

“Mr. Wilner has agreed to testify,” Tony said. “He’s here for protection, just like you, Y/N.”

“For how long?” Bucky snarled.

“As long as it takes, Sergeant Barnes,” Tony snapped, shooting a dirty look in Bucky’s direction.

“Could...could Harvey and I have a minute, please?” you asked, rising to your feet and moving away from Harvey. You needed space, air, something.

Bucky opened his mouth, but Steve wrapped his hand around his arm and pushed him toward the door, gesturing for Pepper and Tony to follow him. You didn’t miss Bucky’s angry glare as the door closed behind them.

“You’re testifying against your father?” you asked, spinning on your heel to look at your former boyfriend

“No, I’m testifying against HYDRA,” Harvey said.

“Your father  _ is _ HYDRA, Harvey,” you bit out.

“Do you know what I’ve been doing for the last two years?” he quipped as if you hadn’t just reminded him that his father was part of the most murderous organization on the planet.

“What?” you sighed. Harvey had a knack for changing the subject when he didn’t like the direction a conversation was headed.

“For the last two years, I’ve been looking for you. I woke up the morning after our date and you were gone. And then my father...he was arrested, and suddenly my world was crumbling around me. I didn’t know what was real and what was a lie. And it occurred to me, that you might have the answers to those questions, that you could tell me what was true and what wasn’t. You were the only person I thought I could believe in.” Harvey folded his hands in front of him, squeezing them together tightly. 

“Harvey -”

He pushed himself to his feet and crossed the room in two long strides, his hand closing around your elbow. “I needed you and you were gone. Do you know what that did to me? You left me, Y/N, left me when I needed you most.”

You gasped in pain as his hand tightened around your arm, squeezing painfully. “I had to leave, Harvey, I had to. HYDRA would have killed me if they’d found me. Your father would have made sure of it.”

“My father’s not a murderer, Y/N,” Harvey scoffed, tugging you closer, his grip tightening. “My father is a scared old man who couldn’t stand up for himself. That’s it. He’s not a murderer, he’s not HYDRA, he was a pawn. That’s it. And that’s what I’m going to say in that hearing.”

“But it’s a lie -”

“It’s the truth as I know it,” Harvey interrupted you. “My truth. How could I believe my father is HYDRA? That he’s a cold-blooded killer? How can  _ you _ believe that? You know my father, Y/N. You worked for him for years.”

"And I didn't know him at all. He wasn't the man I thought he was. All of that was a persona he put on. Your father is an evil, horrible man."

Harvey squeezed your arm even tighter. "You know that's not true."

You took a step back, ignoring the pain pulsating through your arm where Harvey held you. “Why are you really here, Harvey?” you muttered.

“I want you to think about what you’re doing,” he whispered hoarsely, the tips of his fingers digging into your arm. “Don’t destroy my father’s life. Do whatever you want to HYDRA, but leave my father out of it.”

The look in Harvey’s eyes terrified you. Fear washed over you, cold and unrelenting. You suddenly felt like you were drowning, unable to pull in a breath. You gasped, pulling in a giant lungful of air. 

“Bucky!” you shouted.

The door burst open and Bucky strode across the room, Steve right behind him. Before you could blink, Bucky had Harvey against the wall, his metal hand around the man’s throat. Harvey’s feet kicked weakly and he batted uselessly at Bucky’s hand, his eyes bulging.

“Bucky, let him go,” Steve ordered.

“Don’t ever touch her again,” he growled. Bucky released Senator Wilner’s son and watched as he slid to the floor, gasping for air.

Bucky swung around and ushered you out of the room. He stopped long enough for you to tell Tony what had happened before leading you back down the hall to your room. Once your bedroom door closed behind the two of you, Bucky closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his muscled chest rising and falling slowly. His anger filled the air around you, tangible, so thick you felt like you could touch it. His jaw clenched as he brought his arms up and ran his hands through his hair and over the back of his neck. He opened his eyes, his blue eyes flashing. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Did he hurt you?”

“I-I’m fine,” you stammered. “Honestly, I’m good.” You scrubbed a hand over your face, wincing at the memory of Harvey grabbing you. “I can’t believe I ever dated that guy.”

“What?” he snapped. He was across the room in a heartbeat, his face inches from yours.

“You dated that guy,” he mumbled. “Are you fucking kidding me?” 

You shook your head, staring at the ground. “Yeah, we dated, for a while. We were dating when I found the USB. I never got a chance to tell him why I left. He must hate me, blame me for what’s happening to his father.”

“It’s not your fault,” Bucky said. “You gotta remember that. HYDRA destroys everything it touches - families, relationships, people, they’re all just a means to an end. You’re helping us stop that.”

“I know,” you murmured, exhaling shakily, your head resting against Bucky’s chest. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Harvey. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you or anything. It just...I guess it’s not important to me anymore. I’m not sure it ever was.”

“I can’t stand the thought of anyone else touching you,” Bucky whispered, his hand sliding up your neck to your chin, holding it in place as he brushed his lips across yours, just enough to set your skin on fire. “It makes me jealous. Unbelievably jealous.” He kissed you again, harder this time.

You gasped, the sharp intake of breath the only sound in the room. Bucky quirked an eyebrow at you, a pleased smile on his face. He leaned over you, his tongue licking across your lips, begging to be let in. You opened your mouth, granting him access, whimpering a little as his hands settled on your waist, his body flush against yours, hard, muscled, solid. Your arms snaked around his back, your hands sliding up and down the well-defined muscles underneath his t-shirt.

“I’m going to make you forget Harvey ever existed,” he snarled. “You’ll be screaming  _ my _ name and you’ll remember that you’re mine.” He captured your lips in his, the kiss hungry and needy.

Your breath caught in your throat even as you returned the kiss, your hands tangling in Bucky’s hair, pulling him closer. His hands slid down your body until he was cupping your ass and with one tug he pulled you so tight against him that you could feel every muscle moving and tensing under the layers of clothes he wore. Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him into you, moaning at the connection between you. It was electric.

Bucky broke away, panting. “Bed, now,” he ordered, pointing in that direction as he ripped off his shirt, kicked off his boots, and fumbled with the button and zipper on his low slung jeans. “And take off your clothes, everything but your underwear.”

You did as he instructed, peeling off your clothes until you were left in only a pair of red panties. You walked backward, staring at Bucky as he stalked toward you, a hungry look in his eyes. His jeans hung so low on his waist you were able to follow the lines of his abdomen that formed a v, disappearing beneath his waistline. Your knees hit the bed and then Bucky was on you, pushing you down, his fingers twisting in your red underwear, causing it to rub deliciously against your warm center. You moaned, involuntarily digging your nails into his scalp. 

Bucky growled, his fingers dancing over your damp panties, massaging you through the cloth, his hands everywhere, touching you in every way imaginable until you were writhing in his arms. He pulled you under him, his hips nestled between your legs, his obvious arousal pressing into you. You squirmed, desperate for some kind of friction, the need for Bucky now running rampant through your body.

“Bucky…” you moaned.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his tongue ghosting over your body, moving from the sensitive skin just under your ear, down your neck, across your collarbones, and down your chest until he took your breast in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the nipple before nipping at it lightly. He moaned low in the back of his throat, making your body thrum excitedly from the vibrations it sent rippling through you. You arched your back, pressing your body against his. Bucky responded, his hips grinding against yours, finally delivering some of the friction you were so desperately craving.

You slid your hand between the two of you, rubbing his hard cock through his jeans. Bucky growled, his eyes slipping closed, his jaw going slack as you worked your hand inside his jeans and moved it up and down his considerable length. His hand drifted down your stomach and past the waistband of the red panties until he was able to ease his finger into you, his thumb pressed against your clit, circling it slowly.

“So ready for me,” he murmured quietly as he nibbled at your earlobe, slowly pumping his finger in and out of your wet heat. “You’re mine, doll.”

“Yes, yours,” you moaned, “always yours, Bucky.”

He added a second finger as he sucked a mark into your neck, crooking them just right so that he hit the perfect spot, pressing and probing until you were nearly coming undone, your body on the cusp of release. You gasped, begging him to finish, to push you over the edge you were so precariously balanced on.

“Not yet,” he murmured. “I want to be inside you when you come, I want to feel you coming undone around me.” He sat up on his knees, pulling your underwear off before peeling off his jeans. He climbed back on the bed and moved back over you, kissing you gently as he entered you, pumping his hips agonizingly slow.

You held him close, your hands on his ass, your nails digging into his skin, silently urging him to move, your hips rising to meet his, but he seemed determined to draw it out, to take his time. He moved, each thrust gradually pushing him deeper and deeper inside of you, inch by inch, until you were burning with desire, not sure you could hold on much longer. Then with one final thrust and a deep growl, Bucky was fully seated inside you, his lips on yours, overwhelming you with the sheer amount of sensations he was awakening in you. He pulled your legs around his waist, then he was rocking into you, harder and deeper than you’d ever thought possible. He broke off the kiss and buried his face against the side of your neck as the two of you moved, matching each other thrust for thrust, your bodies moving together like magic.

You whimpered as each movement hit the perfect spot, and then, you were falling, drowning in the pure ecstasy that was Bucky as your orgasm consumed you, whiting out your vision, heat exploding through your body, every nerve ending on fire. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, Bucky’s hand snaked between your bodies, two fingers circling your clit as his movements became more erratic and intense, until you were coming again, so hard you bit your tongue, Bucky’s name a curse on your lips.

He was right behind you, a satisfied groan that sounded distinctively like the word ‘mine’ falling from his lips as he came. He rolled off of you, collapsing to the bed beside you. He pulled you into his arms, running his fingers through your hair while he kissed you, both of you still trying to catch your breath.

“You good?” he murmured.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

He lifted your arm, examining the bruises left by Harvey, bruises you hadn’t even realized you had. A hurricane of emotions played across his face. You cupped his face in your hand, your thumb caressing his cheek.

“Buck, I’m fine,” you said.

“He hurt you,” he growled.

“And you stopped him,” you reminded him. “Thank you for protecting me.”

“I’ll always protect you,” he sighed, his lips drifting up your jaw to your ear. “Always.”


	16. Midnight Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Harvey at the compound, Bucky is more insatiable than usual. You learn some disturbing information about Bucky’s past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mentions of non-consensual sex.

You were sprawled across your bed, with Bucky tucked between your legs, your hands pinned at your sides by his, both of you fully clothed, though that didn’t seem to have any effect on the sensations exploding through your body. 

Bucky ran his lips along the edge of your jaw, nipping softly, making you groan with need. God, you wanted him. Of course, when didn’t you want him? Bucky was like a drug, one you couldn’t get enough of, one you needed all the time. You wiggled, trying to get your hands free, but he held tight, chuckling under his breath.

“Bucky,” you gasped, one leg coming up to wrap around the back of his thigh, your back arching in a desperate attempt to get closer to him as he kissed you. “Stop teasing.”

“But I like making you squirm,” he growled, his breath hot against your ear. “It’s fucking hot.”

“Except you’re always telling me not to squirm,” you murmured, barely holding back a giggle.

“You’re right,” Bucky laughed. “I do tell you not to squirm.” He pushed himself away from you, ignoring your groan of protest. “Get out of those clothes.”

You sat up and quickly pulled off your jeans and t-shirt; you were naked beneath your clothes, leaving your bra and underwear off, knowing full well what Bucky had in mind. He’d been waiting for you when you got out of the shower, anxious to tell you what he had planned. You hadn’t even balked. You had been as anxious as Bucky to return to his room after a group dinner in the common room.

Ever since Harvey had come to the compound, Bucky’s sexual appetite for you had been insatiable. Even after Tony had confined Harvey to his quarters, the super soldier’s attitude toward you had not faltered. It was as if he was claiming you as his, making sure everyone knew who you belonged to, especially Harvey.

“Lie down on the bed,” he ordered.

You hurried to obey, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument. You loved it when he got like this, hard and demanding, his gorgeous blue eyes alight with desire and want. You knew what he wanted and you were more than willing to give it to him.

Bucky reached under the mattress and pulled his newest acquisition free - an under the bed restraint system. He’d shown it to you almost as soon as he’d gotten it in the mail, explaining to you how it would work. His excitement had been contagious. You couldn’t wait to try it.

You stretched out on the bed, waiting patiently as he wrapped the velcro straps around your ankles and wrists and pulled the straps taut, your arms and legs now spread wide. Once you were secured in place, Bucky leaned over you, his hand splayed over your stomach, his lips gliding up your neck, stopping right above your mouth.

“You good, doll?” he whispered.

“Yes,” you breathed, your head coming up an inch or two so could press a kiss to his lips. He returned the kiss, ending it far too quickly to rise to his feet. He stripped off his remaining clothes, his eyes never leaving yours as his shirt and pants hit the floor. He took his half-hard cock in his hand, stroking it slowly, his thumb circling the tip, his tongue in the corner of his mouth, several quiet grunts coming from him as his shaft grew in his capable hands. You were panting with desire by the time he released himself and climbed onto the bed between your legs.

His lips closed around your breast, his hand moving down your stomach, between your legs, one finger slipping through your wet folds, his moan of desire reverberating through you. His tongue circled your nipple, his teeth grazing it, then he was sucking greedily, your back arching in response, pushing yourself closer to his mouth. He settled himself between your legs, one arm snaking around your waist, the tip of his cock rubbing deliciously against your pussy.

You moaned, tugging uselessly at the straps of the restraint system, wanting to touch him, but knowing you couldn’t made it that much more exciting, so much more enticing. A tremble of desire worked its way through you at the thought of all the things Bucky could and would do to you, how you were at his mercy. You loved it.

Bucky’s head came up, one eyebrow quirked in a question, his head tipped to one side. “You good?”

You nodded, your lower lip caught between your teeth, your body thrumming with need. Bucky grinned, his head dropping back to your breast, his lips drifting over the swell of your breast. He moved down your body, kissing a trail from your cleavage down your stomach, coming to rest just above your aching center. He planted wet kisses on the inside of your thighs, his breath hot against your skin. His tongue darted out of his mouth, licking a long, wet stripe along your pussy, his tongue flattening at the last second. Your thighs quivered in response, so he did it again, slower, a low growl rumbling through his chest, vibrating through you.

His tongue circled your clit, flicking it repeatedly until your hips were bucking wildly and you were shuddering and trembling with need.

“Jesus, Buck, are you trying to kill me?” you gasped, straining against your bonds.

Bucky pulled away and pushed himself up on his hands and knees. “You need to stop squirming,” he smirked. “Otherwise, I’m gonna drag this out until you’re begging me to fuck you, until you’re screaming it loud enough for everyone to hear you.”

You moaned, squeezed your eyes closed, and tried not to move. “You _are_ trying to kill me,” you grumbled.

Bucky laughed, the sound deep and enticing, then he slid a hand beneath your ass, lifting you closer to his mouth, his tongue and two fingers sliding deep inside of you, a strangled groan coming from you as he crooked his fingers, dragging them against the perfect spot. You did your best not to squirm, even though you wanted to wrap your legs around his head, grab his head and hold it against you, but all you could do was grip the straps even tighter, and moan a little louder.

“Bucky,” you gasped. “Jesus, babe, I’m so close.”

Your words did as you’d hoped, igniting his hunger for you, amping it up. He pushed himself forward, his tongue and two fingers deep inside you, his head moving side to side, pushing you to insane heights of pleasure, a pleasure you only ever wanted to experience with him. The orgasm exploded through you, every inch of your body on fire, burning alive with the sensations rolling through you.

Bucky worked you through the orgasm, milking more and more pleasure from you with every swipe of his tongue, every breath against your heated skin. When he finally released you, his head coming up to look at you, his chin and lips were wet with your slick, his eyes glazed over with lust.

You laid on the bed, gasping for air, your entire body on fire from what Bucky had done to you. “Oh my God,” you murmured. “That was...that was incredible. If you let me out of these things, I’ll return the favor.” You shook your arms, anxious to be free of your bonds.

Bucky rose to his knees, an almost evil grin on his face. “I’ll tell you what. You can have _one_ hand. But, I’m not finished making you squirm.” His fingers danced over you, your hips rising to meet his hand, your body betraying you, showing him how desperately you still wanted him, needed him. He leaned over you, his hand still between your legs, teasing you, his lips inches from yours.

“What do you want to do to me, Y/N?” he whispered. “How are you going to return the favor?”

You licked your lips, your eyes locked on Bucky’s. “I want you in my mouth,” you breathed. “I want to taste you.”

A growl emanated from Bucky’s chest, his eyes fluttering closed, his throat moving as he swallowed loudly. Your tongue darted out, licking at his lower lip. He fell over you, his mouth covering yours, kissing you as if his life depended on it. He hand slid up your arm, the cuff on your right wrist falling to the bed. He rolled to his side, your lips chasing his as he pulled away. You reached for him with your free hand, but he was rolling away from you and rising to his knees.

“Where are you going?” you grumbled.

“Making sure we both enjoy this,” he chuckled. He turned to face your feet, throwing one leg over you so he was straddling you, his hard cock in your face.

“Think you can do it like this, doll?” he murmured, his warm breath blowing over your pussy. “If not, say so now.”

“I-I can do it,” you said.

“If you have any trouble, tap me on the leg, okay? We’ll stop right away.”

You nodded, then you remembered Bucky couldn’t see you.

“Okay.”

“That’s my girl,” he whispered.

Using your free hand, you took hold of him, stroking him, surprised that your mouth was salivating, yearning to taste him. You did just that, your lips wrapping around the velvety tip, sucking greedily. Bucky groaned, rocking back on his knees, pushing himself deeper into your mouth. He dropped to his elbows, his lips grazing your clit, sending a shot of white-hot, electric heat shooting through you. You tilted your head back, opened your throat and wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, urging him to go deeper. He was happy to oblige, his legs opening wider, his cock sliding down the back of your throat. You moaned, the sound vibrating against his pulsing cock.

Bucky buried his face between your legs, his tongue swirling around your clit, sucking it between his lips, your hips immediately bucking in response. You slid your hand up and down his cock, popping him free of your mouth to stroke him several times, your thumb circling the tip before guiding him back to your mouth, your tongue dipping briefly into the slit. He was moaning, as were you, the two of you locked in a passionate rhythm, Bucky rocking back to thrust himself deep into your throat, then forward to plunge his tongue inside you. Your eyes were watering, your body wound so tight you weren’t sure you could take much more, every molecule screaming for release. You were close, so close.

The sudden loss of his body heat, the loss of his mouth on the most intimate part of you, shocked you, drawing a loud, gasping cry from you. He released the cuffs on your ankles, then the one still around your wrist, then his body covered yours, his mouth was on yours, his tongue pushing past your lips, invading your mouth. You could taste yourself on his lips and it made you moan, your hips rising up to meet his, the length of his cock pressing into the lips of your sensitive pussy.

He eased into you, filling you completely, one hand sliding beneath your ass to lift you. You weren’t going to last, not with him so deep inside of you that you felt like you were one entity, not when Bucky started to move, his cock dragging across your sweet spot with every move, not when the rhythm of his tongue in your mouth matched the rhythm of his thrusts, not when this man was fucking you senseless.

Bucky moved, rolling over and sitting up in one swift move, his back against the headboard, drawing you into his lap. You grabbed the headboard with both hands, bracing yourself as he lowered you onto hard length, gasping as he stretched you wide, your knees planted on either side of him. Once he was fully seated inside you, you wrapped your hands around the back of his neck, leaned over him, and kissed him, your mouth and his connected, tongues probing, exploring, tasting.

You were on an erotic high, Bucky pushing you to immeasurable heights. You moved, moaning as the sensations weaved themselves deep into your bones, pleasure and desire exploding out of you. Your nails dug into the back of Bucky’s neck as you bucked wildly in his arms, riding him hard and fast, both of you completely gone, lost in the moment, consumed by lust, love, passion, whatever it was the two of you shared.

His mouth closed around your breast, his hands on your shoulders pulling you down onto him as he thrust into you, emptying himself inside of you, a deep, guttural groan pouring out of him as your pussy clenched around his throbbing cock, his abdominal muscles pressed against your clit, the climax sudden and sharp. Perfect.

You collapsed against him, your face pressed to the side of Bucky’s neck, his hands on your back, moving in slow circles, his hands warm as your body cooled. He rolled you to your back, his hands running over every inch of your body, paying particular attention to your wrists and ankles, rubbing them gently, easing the mild ache in them. Once he seemed satisfied that you were okay, he pulled you into his arms, and you drifted, eyes closed, exhausted, slipping into darkness.

* * *

You woke God knew how many hours later, heat surrounding you, your mouth so dry it felt as if you had been chewing on cotton. You maneuvered yourself out of Bucky’s arms, careful to not wake him, and made your way to the small kitchenette, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. You drained half of it in just a couple of swallows, leaning against the counter, your eyes closed. You loved the compound at night, it tended to be quiet and peaceful, unlike the chaotic hustle and bustle of the daylight hours. Not that the nights weren’t sometimes crazy, but tonight at least, it was quiet.

The peaceful tranquility was shattered by a visceral, primeval cry that made every hair on your body stand at attention. You pushed away from the counter, the bottle of water falling to the ground as you ran back to the bedroom, the echoes of that horrible sound ringing in your ears, your heart thumping with fear.

You hit the light switch and Bucky’s bedside lamp came to life. It had no effect on him; he was tossing and turning, writhing in agony, another horrible scream of agony leaving him, the eerie, devastating sound lancing through you once more.

“Bucky?” You leaned over him and grabbed his shoulders in an attempt to shake him awake.

He opened his eyes and they were wild, vacant, scanning the room before coming back to rest on you.

“Get the fuck off of me,” he roared, his right arm coming up, his hand landing on your shoulder, and then he shoved you, hard enough to send you tumbling to the floor with a startled grunt. He burst out of the bed with an ungodly roar, slamming into the wall opposite the bed. He slipped to his knees with a groan, his hands fisted in his hair, tugging it sharply.

“No, no more, I can’t. Don’t touch me, Dr. Braun, please don’t touch me,” he mumbled under his breath, his head shaking from side to side, his chest heaving, a tremor shaking him from head to toe, tears wetting his cheeks, his face contorted in anguish.

Despite the fear squeezing your heart in its cold hands, you crawled closer to Bucky, murmuring quietly. “Bucky? Baby, it’s me, it’s Y/N.” You knelt beside him, gently put your hand on his unscarred shoulder, and whispered his name again.

“Bucky, please,” you whispered.

His eyes danced over you, blue and wild, his pupils blown wide with fear. He stared vacantly at you.

“You were having a nightmare,” you explained softly. “But, you’re here, at the compound, with me. You’re safe.”

He blinked, his head turning slowly as he looked around, frowning as he took in his surroundings before he turned back to you.

“Y/N?” he breathed, realization dawning in his eyes. “Fuck.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, moaning low in the back of his throat, a desperate, agonized sound. “Did I...did I hurt you?”

“No,” you lied. “I’m fine.” You sat down beside him, your back to the wall. “What the hell was that?”

“Look, doll, I don’t think -” He sucked in a giant lungful of air. “I don’t think you want to know…”

“I don’t care what you think -” you interrupted. “I deserve to know what that was. If you and I are really...together, then I have a right to know what I’m getting into.”

Bucky sighed heavily, his arms resting on his drawn-up knees. He cleared his throat and pushed a hand through his hair a couple of times. He stared hard at the framed photo above his bed. His voice was low, rough, and strained when he finally started to speak.

“After HYDRA replaced my arm, they kept me on lockdown, drugged to the point that I didn’t even know my own name. They were systematically wiping my mind, stealing my memories, taking away everything that was Bucky Barnes, turning me into the Winter Soldier, the Asset. I was dangerous, especially in the beginning when I had little to no control over the arm. There was a...a...chair with a metal clamp that they used to hold me, strapped down, by my ankles, my arms, even my head. They’d lock the clamp around my arm while they worked to destroy my mind. I only ever saw guards and doctors. One of them was Dr. Braun.” Bucky visibly shuddered. “She...she was a psychologist. She drugged me, repeatedly. Her responsibility was to brainwash me, make me forget who I was, and turn me into their puppet. Her way of doing that was to...to…”

Bucky swallowed noisily, his head dropping, chin on his chest. He sniffed, his hand covering his eyes, mumbling incoherently under his breath. He reached out blindly, his hand covering yours, fingers intertwined with yours.

“Are you sure you want to hear this?” he murmured.

“Yes,” you nodded, scooting closer to him, shoulder to shoulder, still holding his hand, your other hand resting on his metal arm. “Bucky, you can trust me.”

Bucky blew out a shuddering breath. “She...Dr. Braun used the drugs to force me to have sex with her, to do her bidding,” he mumbled, his eyes squeezed closed. “I was powerless, no control over what I was doing, no control over what she was forcing me to do. And my scars? Dr. Braun was...she...she was fascinated with them. She-she liked to touch them and if I flinched, she would get angry. If I wouldn’t do what she wanted, perform like she wanted, at best she would slap me, degrade me, and at worst, she’d have me beaten by the guards, beaten beyond recognition, knowing that I would heal quickly because of Zola’s experiments. More often than not, it was the latter.”

“Oh god,” you gasped, tears welling in your eyes. “That’s why...that’s why you don’t like anyone to touch your scars -”

“It reminds me of Dr. Braun and the things she forced me to do,” he said. “Everything about me, the reason I am the way that I am, that all leads back to what was done to me by HYDRA. They tore me apart and when they put me back together, they made me into a monster, made me into nothing worthwhile.”

“No, no, that’s not true,” you whispered, pushing yourself between his legs and grabbing his face with both hands. You kissed him and something seemed to snap inside of him. He pulled you into him, holding you close, his tongue invading your mouth, desperate and needy. He pushed himself to his feet, one arm around your waist, holding you flush against his body. He lowered you to the bed, pressing you into the mattress, sprawled on top of you.

One of his hands slid up your neck to clasp your jaw, his blue eyes locking on yours. “Don’t leave me, doll,” he whispered. “I need you.”

“Never,” you sighed, your arms wrapping around his neck, your lips a breath away from his. “I swear I’ll never leave you.”


	17. No Matter What

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky have a disagreement about a visit you make to Harvey, leading to an unexpected occurrence.

Of all the days for Bucky to get called away on a mission, it had to be the morning after his revelations about his past. You’d wanted to spend some time together, see if he was willing to discuss the things he’d told you. It certainly gave you a deeper understanding of why Bucky was the way that he was. Instead, you were standing on the landing pad watching him board the quinjet for a mission to Greece. You had no idea how long he would be gone, nor did he. All you could do was wait.

Waiting turned out to be difficult. Part of the problem was having Harvey in the compound. You couldn’t stop thinking that he might be able to give you some answers to the questions you’d had for the last two years; two years that you’d been on the run, two years that you had lived in fear, afraid of Harvey’s father and HYDRA.

Even though Bucky had asked you not to, specifically requested it of you, you felt compelled to talk to Harvey, compelled to have it out with him once and for all. It would only be for a few minutes, long enough to get the answers you needed. If anyone could give them to you, you thought it could be Harvey. He had to know something and you felt like he owed you some kind of explanation. It couldn’t hurt to talk to him and find out what he knew.

Two days after Bucky left, you made your way across the compound to Harvey’s quarters, where he had been confined since his arrival at the compound and his confrontation with you. Clint was sitting outside the door, leaning back in his chair, feet up on the wall, an apple in one hand, and a small pocket knife in the other, which he was using to peel the apple.

“Hey, Y/N. What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I need to talk to Harvey,” you replied. “What are you doing?”

“I’m on babysitting duty. And Bucky said no, we’re not to let you see him,” Clint shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Bucky doesn’t get to decide what I do,” you said, irritated that he’d gone so far as to tell Clint and God knew who else that you weren’t to see Harvey. “And he doesn’t decide who I talk to. I just need ten minutes.”

Clint shook his head. “I don’t think so, Y/N. I like my head attached to my body and if I let you in there, Bucky will kill me.”

“I’ll handle Bucky. Just let me in. Please, Clint? I just...I need some answers and I think Harvey might have them. Ten minutes, I swear.”

Clint crossed his arms and stared at you for a full thirty seconds, then with a heavy sigh, he dropped the chair to the floor. “I’ll give you  _ five _ minutes, Y/N, and not a minute more. Understood?”

“Understood,” you nodded.

Clint rose to his feet and opened the door. He held his hand up, stepped inside, said something you couldn’t quite hear, then he gestured for you to come in. You squeezed past him, patting his arm as you did.

“Five minutes,” he whispered before pulling the door closed.

As soon as you were in the room, an unattractive smirk spread across Harvey’s face, his dark eyes roving over you. “I knew you couldn’t stay away from me.”

“Shut up, Harvey,” you ground out. “This isn’t a social call.”

Harvey stood up and shoved a hand into his pocket, one eyebrow raised, an engaging smile on his face, something you used to find attractive. “Come on, Y/N,” he tsked. “You came here alone. There can only be one reason for that.” 

“First of all, gross,” you sneered, bile rising in the back of your throat. “Secondly, I’m not alone.”

“You mean bird brain out there?” Harvey scoffed, gesturing toward the door. “He’s not a threat.”

You couldn’t help it, you gave a hearty laugh at that. “Not a threat? You do know who you’re talking about, right? That man helped defeat an alien army with a bow and arrow, Harvey. Tell me, what is it that’s so special about you?”

“Shut up,” he warned you, a palpable rage simmering just below the surface. 

“Or what?” you shot back, suddenly feeling brave. “There’s nothing you can say or do that could scare me. I’ve got the Avengers as my back-up.”

“Do you really think you’re safe? Are any of us safe? Do you think a handful of superheroes in tights will stop HYDRA? They will come for you, Y/N,” Harvey spat. “I can guarantee it. There is no place you can hide. There isn’t anyone who can keep you safe from HYDRA.”

“I don’t believe that,” you murmured.

“Believe it, Y/N,” he said. “That man, Barnes, that you seem to care so much about? He’s HYDRA -”

“Not anymore,” you cut him off. “He’s not that man anymore.”

“Do you know that for sure, Y/N?” Harvey snarled. 

The door behind you hit the wall hard enough to leave a dent, startling you. You spun around, coming face to face with Bucky, the murderous rage on his face frightening you, especially in light of Harvey’s words.

“Bucky -”

He didn’t wait for an explanation, he just took you by the arm and led you out of the room and down the hall, shooting a dirty look at Clint as you passed him, his mouth drawn into a tight, irritated line.

“Bucky, would you let me explain?” you muttered, trying to yank your arm free.

“There’s nothing to explain.” he snapped. “I told you to stay away from him.”

“I had questions -”

“Y/N, he could be dangerous,” Bucky cut you off. “You’re not thinking.”

“Maybe you’re not thinking, Bucky,” you shot back. “Do you really think Tony would let him in the compound if he was dangerous? Do you think he’d take that chance?”

“If it meant taking down HYDRA, he might,” Bucky said.

You hadn’t realized Bucky was leading you back to his room until he opened his door and pushed you inside, finally releasing your arm. You turned around, your arms crossed, glaring at the man in front of you.

“Do you know how bad I want to punish you right now, Y/N?” he growled, his eyes flashing in anger.

“What?” Confused, you took a step back, your legs hitting the couch.

“I want to punish you,” he repeated, his voice low and feral. 

“I don’t understand,” you muttered, dropping to the couch. “Why...why would you want to punish me?”

“You disobeyed me and I want to punish you for it,” he snarled. 

“That wasn’t…” You stopped yourself and took a deep breath. “Me talking to Harvey, against your wishes, doing that makes you want to punish me?” you murmured. “I don’t understand why?”

“It’s part of who I am, Y/N, part of what I am, part of my make-up,” Bucky snapped. “It’s a side of me I haven’t let loose with you, not like I have with others in the past. I keep that part of me locked inside when we’re together.”

“But, you’ve spanked me, used the flogger on me -”

“Those weren’t punishments, those were...those were things I did for your pleasure. And mine. I haven’t pushed the issue with you, the punishments. Other subs I’ve had, they’ve let me punish them when they’ve disobeyed me or gone against my orders. I’ve never done that with you.”

Your stomach lurched and you had to swallow past the bile rising in your throat. You knew there had been others, of course, more than just you and Natasha, but you hadn’t let yourself think about them. You tried to keep yourself focused on you and Bucky and what the two of you shared, not letting the thoughts of other women creep in. If you let that happen, you’d go insane comparing yourself. It was hard enough knowing about Natasha, let alone anyone else.

“Did...did you punish Natasha?” The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“Y/N -”

“Answer the question, Bucky,” you demanded. “Did Nat let you punish her?”

“Yes.”

It was like a slap to the face, knowing that Natasha had done something for him you hadn’t, something he hadn’t even asked you to do. You dropped your head into your hands and blew out a shaky breath.

“If it’s a punishment, doesn’t that mean...I mean...isn’t it...won’t it hurt?” you murmured, looking back up at him.

His eyes were hooded, dark. He blew out a shaky breath and scrubbed a hand over his face. Time seemed to stand still as you waited for him to answer.

“It probably will hurt. But you have to understand, Y/N, it’s not about me wanting to hurt you. Not even a little. It’s about the control, it’s about you accepting the punishment, accepting my need to control you.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest and a chill ran through you. “Why do you need to control me?”

“I just need it.” He paused, gazing at you with anguish, his hands pushing through his hair. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I told you, it’s part of who I am. I’m a monster. As much as I...I need you, as much as you mean to me, I still feel the need to control you, to punish you when you don’t do as I ask. It's the only way I know how to get past my...the issues I have. I  _ have _ to be in control of everything. Even you. It's why I want to punish you when I ask you to do something, or not do something in this case, and you blatantly disobey me. I  _ want _ to punish you, but I won’t.”

“You won’t or you can’t?” you asked.

He stared at you warily. “I don’t know. Won’t, can’t, does it even matter? All I do know is that I can’t risk losing you. And I’m afraid if you see that side of me, the side of me that so desperately wants to punish you, the part of me that could hurt you and be okay with it, if you see that side of me, I  _ will _ lose you.” Bucky stalked across the room, crossing it in just a couple of long strides, kneeled in front of you, and pulled you into his arms, his lips on yours, taking you completely by surprise. You could sense his panic, his desperate need for you coming through in the kiss.

“I can’t handle the thought of you leaving me, doll,” he murmured against your lips. “It’s why I hold back, why I don’t let myself go. I’m afraid of losing you. You said you wouldn’t leave me, but that...that would make you leave me. I know it would.”

Your heart felt as if it was turning itself inside out. This was a side of Bucky you had never seen before; you weren’t sure many people had. This was a man who was lost somewhere in the horrifying darkness that Dr. Braun and the other monsters of HYDRA had forced into him. You could turn away from him, turn away from the horrors and the darkness that wove its way through every fiber of Bucky’s being, or you could try to free him from the darkness, show him that love existed and that some people would do anything for the people they loved.

“I’ll do it,” you whispered.

“What?”

"I said I’ll do it," you repeated. "You can punish me. Show me what you need."

Bucky fell back on his haunches, his face unsure, his eyes hooded. "You'll let me punish you? Really punish you?"

“Yes,” you nodded. “I’m willing to try for you. I know you need that control and I trust you, Bucky. With my life. If I do this, then maybe once and for all, you’ll know I’m in this no matter what, that I can handle whatever you throw at me. Maybe you’ll finally believe that I love you.”

Bucky rose to his feet, his hands in his hair, uncertainty in his eyes. He backed up several steps, scrubbed a hand over his face, and stared at you, hard, as if he was contemplating his answer. You could see the war he fought in his eyes; his desperate need to control you in every way fighting against the feelings he had for you, feelings you knew he hadn’t experienced in a long time, if ever.

You knew the second he made his decision; his face changed, jaw clenched, and eyes narrowed. He held his hand out to you and without a word, you rose to your feet and took it. He pulled you across the room to a small black leather bench tucked beneath the only window in the room. He hooked his foot around one of the legs and dragged it away from the wall.

“Kneel on the floor and lean over the bench,” he ordered.

A shiver raced through you and not the good kind. Bucky’s voice had changed, taking on a tone you’d never heard before - hard, uncaring. A tiny wisp of fear settled in the pit of your stomach. You ignored it; this was Bucky and he wouldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t.

You did as he asked, dropping to the floor and leaning over the bench. Without even thinking about it, you grabbed hold of the metal legs, gripping them tight, your cheek resting on the seat of the bench.

Behind you, you heard Bucky unbuckle his belt and pull it from the waistband of his jeans. The atmosphere in the room had changed, charged with a strange energy you didn’t like. Your heart was pounding out of control, your brain screaming at you to run, but you ignored every instinct, bit your lip, and squeezed your eyes closed.

“You disobeyed me, Y/N,” he murmured. “You didn't stay away from Harvey like I asked. Because of that, I’m going to spank you five times.” He ran a hand over your jean-clad ass, his hand running over both cheeks and down to the top of your thighs.

“Use the safe word if you want me to stop, doll,” he said. “Do you understand? If it’s too much to handle, you use the safe word.”

“Yes, sir,” you whispered, closing your eyes and bracing yourself for the first blow. The belt snapped across your ass, the bite of it sharp and stinging. You couldn’t hold back the startled gasp that left you.

“One,” Bucky exhaled. 

You squeezed your eyes shut so tight it hurt. He struck you again, the pain pulsing, reverberating along the thick leather of the belt, spreading through your entire body. You bit back the pain, refusing to cry out.

“Two,” Bucky murmured, the sound like a strangled moan. His breath was tearing in and out of his throat, ragged and harsh, while you were holding your breath, waiting for the next blow. The belt whistled through the air again, connecting with your ass.

“Three.” 

Tears sprang unwanted to your eyes, flowing down your cheeks, a choked sob coming from you. This was so much harder than the other times he had spanked you because Bucky wasn’t holding back, he was  _ punishing _ you, just like he’d said he would, just like you’d asked him to do.

You were bracing yourself for another blow, hoping the tears weren’t noticeable on your face, when you saw the belt fall to the floor out of the corner of your eye and land by Bucky’s feet, the light coming through the partially open curtains reflecting off the silver buckle, momentarily blinding you.

“Jesus, doll, come here,” he whispered, dropping to his knees beside you. “I’m so sorry. Christ, what the fuck have I done?” He pulled you into his arms, his voice thick with emotion. “Are you okay?” His hands roamed over your body, apparently looking for injuries. “God, doll, I’m really sorry. I knew I shouldn’t have done that, I knew it.”

“Y-you weren’t hurting me, Buck,” you reassured him. “You didn’t have to stop. I’m okay.” You were lying. You knew it and Bucky knew it. 

“You’re lying,” he growled. “You’re trying to make me feel better.” He lifted you, easily, and set you on the low couch, then he moved to the other side of the room, distancing himself from you. He paced back and forth, his blue eyes flicking your way every couple of seconds, alight with some heart-wrenching emotion you couldn’t quite place, but one that made you very, very nervous.

“Bucky, what is it?” you asked quietly, shifting nervously, wincing as the sensitive skin of your ass rubbed against the couch, praying Bucky hadn’t noticed.

“Why didn’t you use the safe word?” he snapped. 

You recoiled, the harsh tone of his voice taking you by surprise. “B-because I didn’t need to -”

“I was hurting you,” he snarled. “I saw your face, the tears, I heard you, the sounds...” He swung around abruptly, his metal fist slamming into the wall, the bricks crumbling to dust. “You can’t just let me hurt you, you should have used the safe word, stopped me.”

“You weren’t hurting me, Bucky!” you cried, rising to your feet. You needed him to understand, you needed him to listen to you.

Bucky shot a glare your way, his hands clenching and unclenching at his side, the click and whir of his metal arm loud in the suddenly silent room. Something shifted, an odd tension you couldn’t quite place filling the empty space between you, then Bucky was taking a step back, moving even further away from you. There was a look in his eyes you didn’t like.

“I can’t do this,” he stated, too calmly for your liking.

“Can’t do what?” you asked warily. You took a step toward him, your heart aching when he backed away another step.

“I can’t hurt you,” he said. “And...and I’m afraid I’m going to, every goddamn day we’re together, I worry that I’m going to  _ really _ hurt you.”

“I know you won’t -”

Bucky was across the room and standing in front of you before you could blink. He leaned over you, his face contorted in agony. “You don’t know that I won’t. Next time, I could go too far. I can’t let that happen, I  _ won’t _ let that happen.”

“What are you saying?” you whispered, fear’s cold fingers wrapping around your heart.

He turned his back on you, crossed the room, and pulled open the door. He didn’t look at you, just stared at the floor.

“I think you should go, Y/N,” he said quietly.

“I don’t want to go,” you shook your head.

“Now.” His tone left no room for argument.

You rose to your feet, walking toward him as if you were in a dream - a nightmare - hoping, praying he would stop you before you got out the door. But Bucky just stared at the floor, refusing to meet your eyes. You stopped in front of him, needing just one more second to be in his presence.

“Bucky, please don’t do this.”

He put his hand lightly on your waist and pressed a kiss to your temple, then you were in the hallway, the door clicking closed behind you.


	18. A Late Night Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You fear that you and Bucky won’t be able to move past the issues that keep arising.

You stood in the hallway, staring at Bucky’s door for the next few minutes, wondering if he would open it and apologize, or if you should knock and demand he listen to you. But the door didn’t open and you weren’t sure your heart could take another rejection, so you turned slowly and trudged through the halls to your room.

Once inside, you pushed the door shut and leaned against it, wincing as your tender backside brushed against the hard oak. You scrubbed a hand over your face, your hand coming away damp with tears you hadn’t realized you were shedding.

How was it that things kept getting so fucked up between you and Bucky? The two of you couldn’t get this relationship right no matter how hard you tried. You kept trying to give him what you thought he wanted, but it was never the right thing. Being in love wasn’t easy. Being in love with a tortured super soldier was even harder.

You pushed away from the door and made your way to the bathroom. You stripped off your clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor, and turned on the shower, making the water as hot as you could possibly stand. You stepped inside and let the water wash over you, your eyes closed, silent tears running down your face, praying you could turn off your brain, shut down the noise that was trying to tear you apart.

By the time the water started to run cold, you’d decided you would give Bucky some time to get his head on straight, to remember that he needed you. That was all he needed. Time.

You dried off as quickly and as carefully as you could, slipped on a pair of loose-fitting shorts and a t-shirt, and made your way across the room to your bed. You suddenly felt like you could sleep for a week, exhaustion falling over you like a thick, heavy cloak. You slipped between the cool sheets and closed your eyes.

Despite the fatigue clawing at your brain, you couldn’t sleep. You tossed and turned, mumbling to yourself, every brush of material against your sore and sensitive ass a reminder of what had happened between you and Bucky.

You’d been lying in bed for more than an hour, on your side, staring at the shadows thrown across your bedroom floor by the leaves outside, tracing the patterns with your eyes, when you heard a quiet tap on your door. A few seconds later it opened a few inches.

“Y/N?” Bucky murmured. “Can I come in?”

You turned to look at him. Even in the dimly lit room, you could see the contrite look on his face. You hadn’t expected him to come to you. “Of course you can come in,” you replied.

You watched as Bucky crossed the room, a resolute look on his face. He pulled the sheet back, climbed in beside you, and gently pulled you into his arms, burying his nose in your hair and pressing a kiss to your neck.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed softly against your skin, his voice achingly sad. “Please don’t hate me.”

You turned slowly in his arms so you could face him, your head resting on his right arm. You caressed his cheek, the tips of your fingers dancing over the stubble. The anguish on his face tore at your soul, causing deep, aching wounds, much worse than the superficial wounds on your skin. 

“I don’t hate you,” you murmured.

“You should,” he sighed. “I told you, Y/N, I’m a monster.”

“You’re not a monster, Bucky,” you ground out.

“But I am,” he argued. “You have to understand something. When I was beating you with that belt, it fucking turned me on. I was so goddamn hard it hurt and all I could think about when I was hitting you was how badly I wanted to fuck you.” He closed his eyes and exhaled shakily. “And then I saw the tears on your cheeks, heard the sobs you were trying to hold back, something snapped inside of me and that’s when I knew I should let you go. Because if I didn’t, I would eventually drive you away. You don’t deserve to live with a monster. I thought maybe if I let you go, it wouldn’t hurt so bad.” He kissed a line along the edge of your jaw, his lips trembling against your skin. “I was wrong.”

“Didn’t take you long to realize that,” you whispered.

“I realized it the minute the door closed behind you,” he replied. “I tried to hide in my room and pretend I wasn’t dying inside because I’d sent you away. Then Steve came pounding on my door, giving me an earful and damn near a punch in the face, thanks to Clint telling him I told you to stay away from Harvey, and that I was acting like a jealous asshole. When I told him I’d sent you away he about tore me to shreds. Threatened to kick my ass if I didn’t come talk to you.”

“Is that the only reason you’re here?” you asked. “Because Steve threatened to kick your ass?” You weren’t sure you could handle it if that was the reason for his change of heart.

Bucky smiled warily. “I’m not afraid of Steve, doll. I still see him as the skinny punk I knew growing up, despite our time in the war. I’m here because I fucked up and I need to know if I can fix it. And to beg you for forgiveness.” He closed his eyes, his forehead resting against yours, his arms tightening around you. 

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” you said.

Bucky opened his eyes and looked at you, puzzled. “For what?” he mumbled.

“Because, I don’t think I can be everything you need me to be,” you replied. "No matter how hard I try."

His eyes widened and his fearful expression returned. He swallowed, his throat clicking noticeably. “You are everything I need,” he said. “I’m the one who isn’t good enough for you. I don’t deserve your love, I don’t deserve someone as good and as pure as you. I shouldn’t ask you to be something you’re not. I shouldn’t ask you to love a monster like me.” He closed his eyes again, a myriad of emotions crossing his face, and when he opened his eyes again, his expression was bleak. “That’s why everything inside of me is screaming at me to let you go. You deserve somebody better.”

Goosebumps broke out all over your body and the world fell away, leaving nothing but a wide, yawning abyss of pain and agony for you to fall into. Bucky’s words tore a hole in your chest, making it hard to breathe. You dragged in a staggering breath as you cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at you.

“You deserve to be loved,” you whispered, tears swimming in your eyes. “I wish...I wish I could make you see that. Please, Bucky. I love you. I want this to work, I want to be with you. Please don’t push me away.”

“I don’t want to push you away,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “But sometimes, I don’t know how to deal with these emotions, these things I’m feeling.” He gently stroked your cheek and wiped away a falling tear with his thumb. “I’m different since I met you. I feel like I’m alive for the first time in more than eighty years.” He traced your lips with his thumb. “I don’t know if that’s enough to keep you safe.”

“I love you, Bucky,” you sighed. “Please, I -  _ we _ \- need to keep trying, keep working on this. You’re the only man I want, no matter what. I believe in you, I trust you.”

“How can you love a monster?” he murmured.

You put a finger to his lips, silencing him. “You have to stop saying that. You’re not a monster, You’re the man I love.” You brushed a kiss across his lips, soft and gentle.

“I love you, doll,” he whispered against your lips.

“What did you say?”

“I said I love you,” he repeated.

Bucky’s fingers tangled in your hair, tipping your head back as his mouth slanted over yours, not giving you a chance to say anything after his startling revelation. His kiss was hesitant and unsure, not the dominating, confident, in charge Bucky you were so used to. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, one leg sliding over his, the kiss deepening as you pulled him closer. His hands slid down your body and inside your shorts, cupping your ass. You hissed as he skimmed the still sensitive skin, cutting off his apology with another kiss. He pulled you flush against his body, his warmth seeping into you, his hands sliding up your sides, just under your breasts. He slowly kissed along the edge of your jaw and down your neck, sucking gently on the spot where your neck and shoulder met.

You took hold of his wrists, guiding his hands to your breasts. He kneaded them gently, his thumbs circling the nipples, drawing a whimper from you. He moved slowly, carefully, as if he was afraid you would bolt, shifting to his knees between your legs. He slid your shirt up your stomach, his lips drifting over your warm skin, his touch tender. He pushed the shirt up and over your head, letting it fall to the floor, his mouth closing over your breast, his tongue swirling around the nipple once, twice, before suckling it gently. 

Bucky wrapped his hands around your waist, lifting you and repositioning you against the pillows behind you. He moved down your body, over your ribs, down your stomach, his kisses soft and sweet. He hooked his fingers in your shorts, peeling them off of your body before pulling your legs over his broad shoulders and placing tender kisses to the soft flesh of your inner thighs. He dragged his tongue through the lips of your pussy, moaning obscenely, the sound vibrating through your body, a shiver racing through you from head to toe. He did it again, over and over, each time pressing in a little harder, a little deeper with the tip of his tongue. His right hand slid under your ass, splayed across one cheek, drawing you closer to his mouth, his tongue circling your clit, then sucking it between his lips.

“Bucky, stop teasing,” you moaned.

His tongue flattened, sliding into you, one finger from his vibranium hand slipping in alongside his tongue, crooking slightly, the sensation enough to cause your back to arch, your hand to fall into his hair and your fingers to tangle in the long locks. Bucky pushed his tongue deep inside of you and pulled you tight against his mouth. You were on fire, heat spreading from your core into every part of your body as he devoured you. Your hips jerked, rising to meet his mouth just as his nose brushed against your clit, sending you reeling.

You gasped his name as the sensations blew through you, your nails digging into his shoulders as the orgasm consumed you, your moans of pleasure filling the room as you came.

But Bucky wasn’t done with you. He slid another finger inside of you, twisting it in a come hither gesture as he greedily sucked your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue around the tiny nub of nerves until you were writhing uncontrollably. The pleasure was too much to bear; you unconsciously tried to move away from him, catch your breath, collect your wits, anything, but Bucky held you tight and, before you realized what was happening, another orgasm shot through you, making you dizzy with desire and need.

When he finally released his hold on you, you were so wrung out that you could barely move. Bucky pulled off his clothes and slowly made his way up your body, raining kisses over your stomach and ribs. He sucked, nibbled, and licked your breasts, pinching and twisting the nipples between his fingers, dragging you back into the depths of ecstasy with every touch. He continued up your body until he reached your neck, leaving marks across your shoulders and all over your throat. You were a mewling mess, whimpering with need, a light sheen of sweat covering you, your legs quivering as you throbbed with desire.

Bucky’s hand was between your legs, his fingers running up and down your inner thigh, stroking your leg, dancing over your aching core, then down your other thigh. He sucked a mark into your neck as his fingers slid inside you. You moaned, your face pressed against his chest, your hips grinding against his hand.

You reached between his legs and took his hard cock in your hand, stroking him slowly. His hips tilted, moving with your fisted hand. He groaned, his breath hot against your neck.

The two of you were completely wrapped around each other, lying side by side, limbs intertwined. He pulled your leg around his waist, guided himself to your entrance, and eased into you. You pushed yourself down on his cock, grinding against him, his pelvic bone pressing against your clit, the pressure intense and perfect. 

Bucky thrust up into you, his tongue buried in your mouth, exploring and tasting you as his cock filled you. Your nails dug into his shoulder as he set a slow, easy pace, your bodies moving together effortlessly. You moaned quietly into his mouth as the pleasure engulfed you, consumed you. Your mind was gone, completely intoxicated by the feeling of Bucky inside of you, of Bucky pleasuring you in the best way possible.

With one last thrust, Bucky buried himself deep inside you, his face buried against your neck as he came. You shattered apart, your body buzzing with pleasure, your entire being shuddering. You collapsed against Bucky’s chest, your arms around his neck, his hair tickling your cheek as he nuzzled the spot right beneath your ear, a contented sigh leaving him.

You pushed his hair off of his face, tipping your head to catch his lips in yours, kissing him softly. “Bucky?” you murmured.

“Hmm?”

“Promise you’ll talk to me?” you begged. “Promise me you won’t make rash decisions about the two of us without talking to me? There’s two of us in this relationship and you need to remember that. We can’t keep doing this, we can’t keep fucking this up. I can’t do it anymore.”

Bucky cupped the back of your head, his forehead resting against yours. “I know, doll, and I’m sorry. I promise you, I’m done fucking this up. But you gotta be patient with me. I’m new at this relationship stuff and I’m still figuring it out. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “We’ll figure it out together.”

He pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, then he whispered “I’ll be right back” before pushing himself out of the bed and sauntering to the bathroom. You rolled to your side, pulling the pillow under your head and closing your eyes. 

You were almost asleep when Bucky crawled into the bed beside you and pulled you back into his arms. You turned your head, resting it against his chest. To your surprise, he hugged you closer, instead of pulling away like he normally did. You decided to take a chance, pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder, right where the scars were most prominent. Bucky tensed, but it was brief, over before you could blink, his hands tightening minutely on your back. You brushed your fingers through his hair and kissed the underside of his jaw.

“I love you, Buck,” you murmured.

Bucky’s breath whispered across your temple when he said, “I love you, too, doll.”


	19. Self Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You fly to D.C. with your protection detail to testify. Things don’t go as planned.

“Romanoff, do you copy?” Bucky asked.

You struggled to pull yourself back into your seat, your nails scraping along the metal floor, wondering if Natasha had responded to Bucky or if the other quinjet had gone down in the firefight. You shot a quick glance at Harvey out of the corner of your eye, but he wasn’t looking your way. His eyes were squeezed closed, his hands gripping the armrests, and he was mumbling to himself, words you couldn’t understand.

This wasn’t supposed to happen; Steve and Tony had promised you that you would be safe,  _ Bucky _ had promised you that you’d be safe and you’d had no reason to doubt them, not until the first explosion had rocked the quinjet, throwing you to the floor.

**_One Hour Earlier_ **

_ “Thank you for coming, Ms. Y/L/N,” Senator Jolson murmured, shaking your hand. “I know this wasn’t easy for you. Your cooperation is very much appreciated.” _

_ You smiled graciously at the Senator from Illinois. “Thank you, ma’am. I hope it helped.” _

_ “More than you know,” she responded. “We can count on you to testify again, if necessary, correct?’ _

_ “Of course,” you nodded. “Whatever you need.” _

_ “Excuse me, Senator,” Steve interrupted, “but we need to go.” He nodded at the senator as his hand closed around your elbow and then he was ushering you through the building to the quinjets waiting outside. Natasha, Harvey, and two former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, men Captain Rogers said he trusted, following right behind you. _

_ Bucky met the two of you at the ramp, a gun held loosely in his left hand. He took your hand, and led you onboard, scowling at Harvey as he followed you onto the jet. Bucky pulled you into his arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead. _

_ “We’ll be back at the compound in no time,” he murmured, pushing you into your seat and fastening the seatbelt around you. “You did great.” _

**_Present_ **

Your stomach dropped as the quinjet spun out of control, gorge rising. A high-pitched whine filled the cabin, making your head throb right between your eyes. You tried to pull yourself into the chair, but you couldn’t get your feet under you.

“We’re going down!” you heard Bucky yell. “We’ve lost both engines and the thrusters are shot. Does anybody copy?”

You managed to turn your head and look over Bucky’s shoulder out the window. The side of the mountain was coming at you, closer with every second that passed. You heard metal groaning as the quinjet hit the top of some tall pine trees and tilted sideways, throwing you against one wall. Pain exploded through your head as you slid to the floor, blood immediately running into your eyes.

Bucky’s metal hand closed over yours, his eyes wide and panicked as he dragged you toward him, his voice a fading echo in your head as blackness crept over you.

**_Ten Minutes earlier_ **

_ “Steve, did you see that?” _

_ You looked up from the book you’d been reading, the worried tone of Bucky’s voice frightening you. You looked out the windows, but you didn’t see anything, nothing but clouds surrounding you, the other quinjet a faint outline in front of you. _

_ “Two bogies, one on each side,” Bucky muttered, sitting up straight, his shoulders tensing noticeably. _

_ You caught a flash of orange out of the corner of your eye, then an explosion off to the left. You dropped your book to the floor and fumbled to undo your seatbelt. You pushed yourself out of your seat, falling to your knees beside Bucky. _

_ “What is it?” you murmured. _

_ He didn’t get a chance to answer, because the next explosion rocked the quinjet, the nose lifting, Bucky struggling to keep it centered. You fell to the floor and slid backward, slamming into the seat you’d previously been occupying. _

_ “Y/N, get in that seat and buckle in!” Bucky shouted. “Now!” _

**_Present_ **

You came to slowly, your vision blurred and tinted red. You put a hand to your head, wincing as the tips of your fingers brushed against a golf ball sized lump on your temple.

“Bucky?” you murmured.

“Don’t move, doll.” His voice sounded far away and fuzzy. You blindly reached for him, but he wasn’t there.

“Bucky?” You struggled to move, to sit up, to follow the sound of his voice.

“Damn it, Y/N, I said don’t move,” Bucky snapped.

You could hear someone moving around, hear ragged, wet breathing, and low moans, but you couldn’t seem to keep your eyes open, pain lancing through your head every time you tried. You could feel the blackness creeping back in, the sound of your heartbeat whooshing in your ears, the smell of blood surrounding you.

You were falling, diving back into the blackness where there was no pain, no anguish, no one trying to kill you. You murmured Bucky’s name again and then you felt yourself being lifted and it was Bucky, his face grim, set in hard lines. He lifted you, holding you to his chest, and then he was running, cradling you close as he moved.

You felt the heat before you heard it, the warmth washing over you just seconds before the explosion threw you and Bucky ten feet through the air. The two of you were on the ground for less than thirty seconds before Bucky was on his feet again, running into the thickest part of the forest, trees on every side.

Bucky slid to a stop two hundred yards into the forest and gently set you down. He stripped off his jacket and handed it to you.

“Put that on,” he ordered.

You did as he asked, doing your best to wrap the heavy black leather jacket around yourself, despite your overwhelming need to curl up and go to sleep, despite your aching head. You watched Bucky as he paced in a tight circle around you, murmuring quietly into the comm every few seconds.

“Bucky, what happened?” you whispered.

He crouched beside you and pushed a strand of hair off of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “We’re assuming it was HYDRA,” he explained. “They took out one of the decoy quinjets flanking us and Steve’s jet sustained some damage. The other quinjet is just...gone. One of our engines and the thrusters were hit, which sent us into a tailspin. We almost hit the side of the mountain, but I managed to set her down in that small meadow.”

“The explosion?” you asked.

“They followed us,” he said, rising to his feet once more, his gun still in his hand. “I think they knew which quinjet you were in. Steve said they veered off as soon as we went down. They’re coming for you.”

A wave of dizziness washed over you - whether from Bucky’s words or your injuries you didn’t know. You swallowed past the lump in your throat and tried to calm your breathing. “Wh-where’s Harvey?” you murmured.

Bucky looked pointedly at the burning quinjet and back at you, shaking his head just once. You slapped a hand over your mouth, stopping the sob threatening to escape. You hadn’t cared for Harvey, but you certainly hadn’t wanted to see him dead. Especially not by the men who controlled his father.

Bucky knelt in front of you again. “You gotta keep it together, doll,” he said calmly. “I know that every part of you is screaming to freak out, but you can’t. We’re gonna have to move here real soon and I need you in control of all your faculties. Can you do that for me?”

“I c-can t-try,” you stammered, nodding vigorously, only to deeply regret it a moment later.

“Hey,” Bucky murmured. “Look at me.”

You did as he asked, your eyes locking on his grayish-blue ones. Just looking at him instantly calmed you. He took your hand in his, squeezing it gently.

“I’m gonna get you out of this, Y/N,” he promised. “I swear I am.”

**_Twenty-four Hours Earlier_ **

_ “You ready for this?” Bucky asked. _

_ “I guess,” you shrugged. “I’m a little nervous about going into D.C. I feel so vulnerable, being out in the open. Last time we left the compound, HYDRA tried to kill me.” _

_ “Trust me, doll, I haven’t forgotten,” Bucky growled, obviously remembering the leisurely drive that had turned into a car chase. “But we’ve got this. Tony’s sending four quinjets, two as decoys, one as back up, and the one you and Harvey will be on. That’s the one I’ll be flying.” _

_ Just the sound of Harvey’s name had you rolling your eyes. He was the other reason you didn’t want to go to D.C. The thought of spending an hour and a half on a quinjet with your ex-boyfriend, who had somehow become a colossal ass, did not make you very happy. Your only consolation was that Bucky would be there. _

_ “Who else is going?” you asked. “Besides you and Steve?” _

_ “A couple of former members of the S.T.R.I.K.E. team that Steve trusts,” Bucky answered, watching you carefully. “Clint and Sam. And Romanoff.” _

_ You blew out an exasperated breath. You should have known Nat would be going; she was, after all, an Avenger, and they were tasked with protecting you. That didn’t stop the irritation that prickled like electricity along your skin. _

_ Bucky wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his arms, one leg thrown over yours. He nuzzled your neck with his nose, sighing a little in the back of his throat. You wiggled closer, allowing Bucky’s warmth to encompass you completely. _

_ “Get some sleep, Y/N,” he whispered in your ear. “Tomorrow’s a big day.” _

**_Present_ **

“Copy,” Bucky muttered, lifting you higher, so you were tucked right up against his side. “We’ll be at the rendezvous point.” He glanced down at you. “Just a little further, doll. Steve’s coming with another quinjet. We just gotta get to that clearing over the next rise.”

You nodded, brushing at the tears sliding down your cheeks. Not only were you in excruciating pain - you were pretty sure you had a concussion - but it was much colder in the mountains, and you were starting to feel it deep in your bones, despite the warmth of Bucky’s jacket. But you could do this. You had to do this.

“Come on, doll,” he murmured.

Ten long minutes later, the two of you slipped out of the trees at the edge of the clearing. Bucky leaned you against the nearest tree, one arm around your waist, his forehead pressed to yours. You’d barely had time to catch your breath before you saw the quinjet materialize out of thin air right above the field.

“There’s our ride,” Bucky grinned.

The first bullet hit the ground at your feet halfway across the clearing, kicking up the dirt. Bucky didn’t hesitate; he scooped you up, carrying you as if you weighed nothing, sprinting toward the lowering ramp of the quinjet. Over his shoulder, you could see at least ten men burst from the treeline, guns raised, racing toward you and Bucky. Another bullet flew past your head, close enough that you felt your hair lift off of your forehead.

Bucky skidded to a stop just as Steve ran down the ramp to meet you, his shield flying from his hand, hitting one of the men behind you, then returning to him immediately. Bucky pushed you into Steve’s arms.

“Get her out of here!” he yelled.

“Buck, what are you doing?” Steve replied, pulling you into his arms.

“If I don’t stop them, they’ll follow us, take out the jet,” he shouted, raising his voice to be heard above the jet’s engines. “This ends now! You get her back to the compound!”

“Bucky, no!” you screamed, reaching for him.

But he ignored you, swinging around, gun raised, racing back toward the men shooting at him. Steve dragged you up the ramp, his eyes on his best friend. 

“Take off,” Steve ordered, before handing you off to Clint and racing back down the ramp, shield raised, following Bucky.

“God damn it, Clint, let me go!” You fought to break free, irrationally thinking if you could go after Bucky, you could convince him to come back, to get on the quinjet with you.

“Nat, go!” Clint shouted over his shoulder. He hit a button on the wall and the ramp began to close. “Sam, give me a hand, will ya?”

Sam appeared at your side, he and Clint dragging you deeper into the quinjet, despite your protests. You finally wrenched yourself free and ran to the window, just in time to see Bucky and Steve disappear into the forest.


	20. Waiting Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is missing and all you can do is wait for his return.

The squeak of a floorboard on the other side of the room drew you from the light slumber you’d fallen into. You sat up so quickly that the nausea you were enduring from your concussion came roaring back, making your stomach clench uncomfortably.

“Bucky?”

Wanda stepped into the dim light cast by the bedside lamp. “Sorry, Y/N,” she murmured, her Sokovian accent thick and sing-song. “It’s only me. The door was open -” 

“It’s alright,” you sighed. “Come in.”

She crossed the room as if she was floating, set a steaming mug on the table, and perched on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Awful,” you mumbled. You laid back against the pillows, one hand pressed to the bandaged cut on your head, watching the beautiful redhead carefully. You wondered if she was there to deliver bad news.

“Shouldn’t you be in the infirmary?” she asked.

You shook your head, wincing as pain shot like a spike through it. “I can’t be in there,” you whispered. “I wanted to be here.”

_ Here  _ was Bucky’s room. You’d left the infirmary, under the protests of Dr. Cho and Bruce, and gone straight to his room. You’d curled up in the middle of his bed and wrapped your arms around his pillow, surrounding yourself in his scent. You hadn’t moved, waiting for word about Bucky and Steve, waiting for Bucky to come home.

You cleared your throat. “Has there been any word?” you inquired.

“Not yet,” Wanda replied. “I promise to let you know the minute we know anything. Drink your tea.” She pointed at the mug, patted your leg, and disappeared back out the door, leaving it open in her wake.

You watched her leave, wondering how she could be so calm, so unfazed by Bucky and Steve’s disappearance. Their comms were down, had been for hours, making you imagine the worst possible scenarios, scenarios no one else believed to be true. How could they do this, day after day? How could they rush into the face of death without batting an eye? How could they let the people they loved run into danger without a second thought? You were losing your mind, every minute that passed without Bucky’s return felt like a torturous descent into madness, while the rest of the compound went on like it was just another day.

All of this was your fault. Bucky would be here, safe, if he hadn’t had to protect you from HYDRA. You were the reason he and Steve had run back into the woods, because they were trying to keep you safe, trying to protect you.

All your fault.

Outside the door, you could hear voices, a lot of voices, and people moving through the halls, rushing, hurrying to do God knew what. You pushed yourself up on your elbows, straining to hear, wondering what all the commotion was about. You prayed it was Bucky and Steve.

You stumbled to your feet and made your way to the door, leaning against the door jamb, waiting, watching. After a couple of minutes, Natasha appeared at the end of the hallway, straightened her shoulders, then she resolutely marched toward you.

“Y/N,” she said as she came to a stop in front of you.

“Natasha,” you replied. “What’s going on?”

“Steve’s GPS was activated,” she explained. “Clint, Sam, and I are going to check it out.”

“Bucky?” you murmured.

“We’re hoping he’s with Steve,” Natasha stated. “We’ll know soon enough.” She spun on her heel and headed back down the hall. About halfway down, she turned around. “Look, I know you’re worried about him. We’ll find him, Y/N. We’ll find him and he’ll be okay. James is...resilient, resourceful. You shouldn’t worry about him.” She started back down the hallway, turning back after only two steps. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I...I was wrong about you. You’re good for James, Y/N, and I can tell he loves you.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond, because Natasha was gone, disappearing back the way she had come.

* * *

Another three hours passed without contact from anyone - not Bucky or Steve, not the team sent out to find them. You’d slept for a little while, but Bruce had sent Wanda in to wake you when you hadn’t answered his repeated calls. Wanda tried to convince you to return to the infirmary, if only to ease Banner’s concerns, but you’d refused, begging her to try and understand why you needed to stay where you were. She reluctantly agreed, promising to talk to Bruce for you. 

The closer it got to the twenty-four-hour mark, the more restless you became. Despite the pain in your head and the exhaustion you felt, you couldn’t seem to get any rest. You finally crawled out of bed and made your way to the common room - the one you’d come to think of as yours and Bucky’s - and made yourself some soup. You were sitting at the counter, trying to eat and staring out the window when you saw a quinjet materialize just above the landing pad closest to the infirmary. You were off the chair and heading for the door before it had landed.

“Y/N!” Wanda met you at the door. “There you are. They found them.” She was out of breath as if she’d been running through the halls. “They’re taking them straight to the infirmary.”

“Are they okay? Is Bucky okay?” you gasped.

“I don’t know,” she shook her head. “Come. We’ll go together.”

You followed her back through the compound to the infirmary. You could hear the shouting before you’d even gotten to the door, the sound of it making your heart pound in fear. Organized chaos was the only way one could describe the insanity happening in the small hospital unit as you stepped inside. People were running everywhere, shouting, preparing the room for what was to come. Your eyes darted around the perimeter of the room, searching for Bucky.

The double doors that led to the outside landing pad burst open. Two members of the hospital staff were guiding a large gurney on which Dr. Cho sat. She was actually sitting astride someone who was lying deathly still; her hands were poised over their heart, counting off the chest compressions while one of the nurses used a bag to blow air into the patient. They ignored everyone as they flew through the small triage area and into one of the operating rooms, the fluorescent lights glinting off of the metal arm hanging off the side of the gurney.

You felt the scream building in your throat as you watched Bucky’s still and silent form being wheeled away from you. The world was spinning on its axis and there was nothing you could do to stop it. You hit your knees, the scream ripped out of you, tears streaming down your cheeks, your vision tunneling, and finally going black as you collapsed to the floor.

* * *

You slipped into the seat across from Tony, Wanda's hand on your elbow. She hadn't left your side since you'd collapsed in the infirmary, sticking close to you at all times. Once you were seated, she took the seat beside you, one arm on the back of your chair, her fingers brushing your shoulder. You were grateful for her presence.

Tony had called the meeting a short time after Bucky and Steve were brought in, demanding Bruce give the team an update on their conditions. 

"Alright, Banner, let's have it," Tony said, immediately silencing the rest of the team. He’d reluctantly agreed to let you attend the meeting only because of your close relationship with Bucky and Wanda’s assurance that if he didn’t, she’d melt his suit.

Bruce gave a quick rundown of Steve’s injuries, emphasizing that he was healing quickly. They were keeping him in the infirmary, forcing him to rest after a night spent in the freezing cold with injuries that would have killed anyone else.

“What about Bucky?” Natasha asked the question before you could.

Bruce cleared his throat, fidgeting with a stack of papers in front of him. “He’s been shot,” he explained. “The problem is, it appears that HYDRA didn’t use a regular bullet, at least not one like I’ve ever seen. It’s embedded deep in his left shoulder, it’s huge, and it tore up a lot of muscle and tissue on its way in. But the oddest part is that it’s emitting an EMP burst every ten to twenty minutes. Cho and I think it was intended to disable his arm and keep it disabled, but the first burst did more than that. It caused one hell of a heart attack. Every subsequent burst is only doing more damage. He’s not dead, but he’s barely hanging on.”

You slapped a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the sob about to burst out of you. Wanda rubbed your back, her forehead resting against your temple.

Bruce gave you a sympathetic smile, but he continued. “The bullet somehow burrowed beneath the arm, something drawing it toward the vibranium, so we haven’t been able to get to it. We, well, we’re going to have to remove the arm to remove the bullet.”

“So why haven’t you?” you mumbled. “If Bucky’s dying -” You couldn’t even finish the sentence, your mouth snapping closed.

“We need Shuri,” Bruce said softly. “She built the arm, she knows how it’s connected to the nerves, the muscles, the surrounding tissue. Helen and I are afraid if we try anything, we’ll make it worse. The princess is on her way from Wakanda, so all we can do is wait for her to get here, do our best to keep him alive.”

“There has to be something else -”

“There isn’t,” Bruce cut you off. “We consulted with Shuri. She agrees that the arm needs to come off. It’s the only way to get to the bullet. Removing the bullet saves Bucky’s life. Period. T’Challa promised to get her here as quickly as he could.”

You blew out an exasperated breath, but you couldn’t argue with Bruce. You had no doubt he knew what he was talking about. “Can I at least see him?” you murmured.

“Of course,” Bruce nodded. “I’ll take you down to see him right now.”

You nodded gratefully and followed him out of the room with Wanda at your side. Once you reached the hospital wing, Bruce led you to the back of the infirmary to a medium-sized room dominated by a hospital bed and every piece of hospital equipment imaginable. Bucky was lying in the bed, unbelievably still. Your heart stuttered painfully in your chest as you rushed to his side. You barely noticed Bruce drag a chair across the room, placing it beside Bucky’s bed until he tapped your shoulder and gestured for you to have a seat.

Wanda waited until you were seated, then she knelt in front of you. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

You waited until Bruce and Wanda had stepped out of the room and the door had swung closed behind them before reaching over and taking Bucky’s hand, intertwining your fingers with his. He was extremely pale and he had dark purple circles under his eyes. There was an oxygen mask covering his face, wires coming out from beneath the hospital gown he was wearing, and an IV in his right arm. His skin was cold to the touch and it scared you, on a deeply visceral level. The very real possibility that you could lose him wrapped its icy hands around your heart and squeezed. You choked back a sob and laid your head on the bed beside his arm.

“Don’t you dare leave me, Bucky,” you whispered. “Don’t you dare.”

Your only answer was the hiss of the oxygen tank and the beep of his heart monitor. You squeezed his hand and brushed at the tears running down your cheeks.

You weren’t sure how long you laid there, your head on the bed, his hand in yours, while silent prayers ran on repeat through your head, but your eyes were heavy with exhaustion. You needed sleep, but you didn’t want to leave Bucky’s side. You leaned back in the chair and scrubbed a hand over your face, trying to stay awake. The monitor behind you gave a loud beep, startling you, then the next thing you knew, the room was exploding in sound, alarms, bells, and beeping, Bucky’s body tensing and twitching. You jumped to your feet, turning toward the door, only to be elbowed out of the way by several nurses, Dr. Cho, and Bruce. You backed across the room, jumping when Wanda suddenly appeared at your side.

“Get her out of here, Wanda,” Bruce ordered, yanking back the blankets covering Bucky, his eyes dancing over the various machines and monitors. Dr. Cho leaned over Bucky, her palms pressed against his chest.

“Bruce,” she snapped, drawing his attention back to her. “It was another burst from the EMP.”

“What’s happening?” you demanded.

“Wanda! Now!” Bruce yelled.

Wanda dragged you toward the door, even though you fought her every step of the way. Her hands and eyes glowed red, the door flying open behind her. She shoved you through it and just before it slammed closed, you heard the words that brought your world crashing down around you.

“We’re losing him.”


	21. Not Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You struggle to deal with the aftermath of the assassination attempt on your life.

You walked toward the coffin, slowly, every step taking more effort than you could seem to summon. Your stomach was tied in knots, your hands shaking, tears sliding down your cheeks, and you didn’t want to go any further.

You felt Steve’s hand on your elbow, his reassuring voice in your ear, promising you that it would be over soon, that you could do this, that you were strong enough to do this. You nodded, forcing yourself to move forward. You stopped beside the coffin, choking back a sob. You glanced over your shoulder, but your eyes were too blurred with tears to see him. You dragged in a deep breath and looked down.

This was wrong, completely wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be _him_ in the coffin, not _him_. Not after everything that had happened, not after all you’d gone through, it couldn’t be him.

Not Bucky.

You woke with the scream in your throat, the sheets clenched so tight in your hands that your knuckles ached. You gasped for air, sucking in lungful after lungful, trying to hold back your cries, your cheeks wet with tears.

Not Bucky.

Wanda appeared at the bedroom door, a question in her eyes. “Are you okay, Y/N?” she asked.

“Y-yes,” you stammered. “S-sorry if I woke you.”

“I was awake,” she lied smoothly.

You shook your head, wondering what you had done to deserve her friendship, her protection. You weren’t worth it. It could only end badly. It always did.

“What time did Tony say it starts?” you asked, glancing at the clock beside the bed.

“Ten,” she replied. “I’ll be there if you need me.”

“Thank you, Wanda,” you whispered. “You don’t know how much I appreciate it.”

Wanda merely nodded. You were glad she didn’t offer any meaningless platitudes; you’d heard enough of those over the last few days to last a lifetime.

You laid back down, wondering if you could go back to sleep. Probably not, though you’d certainly try. You were going to need every ounce of strength you could summon to get through the day.

* * *

You stared at the feed on the television in the corner, the one Tony had arranged to have piped into the compound. You couldn’t leave to go to the funeral, not for lack of trying, but with HYDRA still trying to kill you, Tony - and Steve - had forbidden it. No amount of arguing on your part had changed their minds. 

“What do you think Bucky would do to me if he knew I let his girl walk into danger like that?” Steve had asked. “He’d kill me, that’s what.”

You hadn’t been able to argue with him, so you’d agreed to Tony’s compromise; he would have a live feed sent into the compound so you could at least attend the funeral remotely. Not as good as being there, but it would have to suffice. 

You folded your hands in your lap and stared at the screen, looking at the people who were there - more people than you’d expected, to be honest. You wiped at the tear sliding down your cheek and snatched a tissue from the box on the table. Wanda squeezed your knee and smiled gently.

“Are you sure about this, Y/N?” she asked.

“I’ll be okay,” you murmured, though you weren’t sure you would.

It felt wrong to not be there, to be sitting hundreds of miles away while others mourned his life and paid their respects. Despite what everyone said, despite their assurances that it was completely understandable why you couldn’t be there, why you shouldn’t be there, you still felt awful, as if you were failing him somehow. He didn’t deserve what had happened to him or the horrible way he had died. Someone who’d cared about him should have been there, not people who’d barely known him.

You watched silently as those people who’d barely known him got up and spoke, memorializing him. Even the senator from Illinois - Senator Jolson - said a few words. They all rang false in your ears. None of these people had known him, none of them had understood him. You weren’t even sure you really had. It was like they were talking about a stranger.

The funeral was nearly over - your head pounding thanks to all the crying - when Steve opened the conference room door.

“It’s time,” he said.

You nodded, rising to your feet and hurrying after him, waving goodbye to Wanda over your shoulder. He held the door for you, letting you in first, though you knew he was just as anxious as you. You slipped into the chair, the same one you’d occupied off and on for the last week, and took Bucky’s hand.

“Bruce said it could take a while for him to wake up,” Steve explained, taking a seat on another chair near the wall, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. “Probably not as long as it would take anyone else, but a little bit. And he’ll probably still be tired for a while, most likely want to sleep even after he wakes up.” He went silent for a moment, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Are you doing okay? After the funeral, I mean?”

“I’m doing okay,” you replied. “It was just a little weird, seeing all of those people talking about Harvey like they knew him, when none of them really did. It was surreal. And I still feel bad -”

“Y/N, you know you couldn’t go,” Steve shook his head.

“I know,” you sighed. “I just...allow me my guilt for a minute, Steve. It’s the only thing I have.”

“I understand guilt,” Steve smiled and shook his head. “It’ll eat you alive if you don’t control it.”

Bucky stirred, his hand twitching in yours, drawing your attention away from your conversation with Steve. Your heart raced in anticipation; you’d waited a week for something, anything, from the super soldier, something to indicate he was going to be okay.

After the heart attack that had nearly killed him, Cho and Banner had put Bucky in a medically induced coma, hoping to stop the constant shocks to his heart from the EMP embedded bullet. It had kept him alive while they waited for Shuri to arrive and while she removed the vibranium arm - a long, drawn-out surgery that had left everyone stressed and exhausted. Once the arm was removed and the bullet was retrieved, Bucky had been kept in the coma, in the hopes that it would aid in his healing. It had taken a week and several blood transfusions from Steve before the medical team had felt confident enough to wake him.

Bucky turned his head, his eyes opening, his nose scrunching just a little as his coma-fogged brain cleared and recognition dawned on his face. He squeezed your hand and smiled weakly.

“Hi,” he croaked, his voice thick and low from lack of use.

“Hi,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his whiskered cheek.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Bucky -” you shook your head. “You’re alive. That’s all that matters.”

He turned his head, catching sight of his friend on the other side of the room. “Steve,” he grinned weakly. “Spit it out.” 

Steve rose to his feet to stand beside Bucky’s bed. “You got shot with some crazy HYDRA bullet,” he explained. “It was screwing with you big time, Bruce couldn’t get it out, so Shuri had to come remove your arm, otherwise you would’ve died.”

“EMP bullet?” Bucky inquired.

“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “How’d you know?”

“HYDRA developed it years ago, as a way to kill me, if necessary,” he sighed. “Never knew if it would work or not, but the threat was there. Guess they decided to take a chance. Sounds like it woulda worked, too. Is that what they hit me with in the field?”

“Looks like it,” Steve said.

“The arm?” Bucky murmured.

“Shuri said you can have it back once she runs some diagnostics,” Steve stated. “She told me to tell you to quit breaking her stuff.”

Bucky chuckled quietly. “Tell her I’m sorry.” He yawned and closed his eyes, his lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. “M’tired,” he mumbled, shifting restlessly.

“We’ll let you sleep,” you said, running your fingers through his hair, pushing it off of his face.

Bucky’s grip on your hand tightened. “Stay here, doll,” he whispered. “I need you right here.”

You pulled your chair as close to the bed as you could and rested your head on the pillow beside Bucky’s. “I won’t go anywhere,” you promised. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

* * *

You watched from the doorway of the shooting range as Bucky aimed the gun and fired. He dropped his arm as Shuri tapped furiously at the computer in her hands, smiling and nodding.

“Again, please, Sergeant Barnes,” she said, rising to her feet and pointing at the target on the other side of the room.

“Bucky,” he corrected her.

“Bucky,” she laughed. “Once more, please.”

He did as she asked, raising the gun and firing. She tipped her head to one side, her lower lip caught between her teeth, her eyes roaming over the vibranium arm.

“I think it is calibrated correctly,” she said. “But only you will know for sure. You’ll tell me if anything feels off, right?”

“Of course,” Bucky nodded. “Are you going back to Wakanda in the morning?”

“California,” she replied. “I’m visiting the outreach center.”

“Alone?” Bucky asked, concern coloring his voice.

“No,” Shuri smiled. “Nakia will be meeting me there.”

Bucky stretched out his hand, his fist meeting Shuri’s, a quick bump before she gathered her things and hurried from the room, smiling as she passed you. Bucky took a few seconds to remove several wires attached to his arm, then he was at your side, his lips pressed to your temple, his arm sliding around your waist.

“How are you feeling?” you murmured.

“I’m fine,” he replied. “Good as new.” His metal fingers flexed against your hip.

“It’s only been two days since you woke up,” you argued, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I’m a super soldier, Y/N,” he responded, for what was probably the hundredth time. “I heal quickly thanks to the serum. And the blood transfusions from Steve.”

“Bruce said he wasn’t sure that helped,” you pointed out.

“But we don’t know it didn’t,” he added. He brushed your hair off of your forehead, his finger tracing the small cut that would surely become a scar, left there after the “quinjet incident” as you’d come to call it. His eyes were narrowed and guarded. “What about you? How are you doing?”

“A few headaches here and there,” you said. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Bucky looked like he didn’t believe you, but he let it go, his fingers curling around yours, tugging you into the circle of his arms. He cupped your cheek, tipping your head back, his lips just brushing across yours.

“Mm, Bucky,” you hummed, your hands on his chest. “Maybe you should be resting.”

“I’ve rested enough,” he murmured. “I slept for a week and for the last two days I’ve been resting, letting Banner and Cho poke and prod me, and Shuri run her tests. I’m done. I’m getting antsy.” He kicked the door closed and threw the lock before pressing you into the wall, his body flush against yours, his hands on your waist, his teeth nibbling at yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth, the kiss all consuming. He shoved his knee between your legs, pushing his thigh against your center, heat immediately settling in the pit of your stomach, desire running through you.

“Jesus, doll, I’ve missed you,” he growled, his lips drifting down the length of your throat.

“I’m right here, Bucky,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Bucky abruptly released you, leaving you gasping for air and chasing after his lips, want coursing through your veins. He picked you up easily, your legs sliding around his waist, and carried you across the room. The next thing you knew, you were falling into his lap as the two of you landed on the old, vinyl chair office chair by the desk.

His hands clamped down on your waist, moving you so you were straddling him, your skirt sliding up your thighs until it was resting just below the curve of your ass. You could feel his arousal, his hard length pressing against your rapidly dampening center. His hands slipped up your sides and beneath your top to cup your breasts, his lips on your neck.

“Bucky, someone might walk in on us,” you murmured, glancing at the door over your shoulder.

“Door’s locked,” he mumbled, yanking your shirt over your head and unhooking your bra, pulling it down your arms and dropping it to the floor before he cupped your breasts, his thumbs grazing the nipples, bringing them to attention.

You couldn’t hold back the groan, couldn’t stop the slight arch of your back, pushing your breasts into his hands, or the minute tightening of your thighs around Bucky’s legs, the line of his jean clad length pressing into you. You trembled as his teeth tugged at your earlobe and his hot breath blew against your skin.

“I want you, doll, right here, right now,” he whispered.

Some odd, incoherent sound came out of your mouth; the sound of Bucky’s desire threaded through his words had your brain scrambled. Bucky hadn’t touched you since before the quinjet accident and over the last couple of days, once you’d known he was going to be okay, you’d been unable to think about anything other than Bucky’s hands on your body. You’d missed him, missed being with him. You let out a deep, shuddering gasp when his hand slipped under your skirt, his fingers roughly shoving aside your underwear, pushing up and into you, brushing against that spot that made your eyes roll back in your head and your heart pound so hard you thought it might explode.

“Open my pants,” he growled, his voice lust thick and demanding.

You moaned, your forehead resting against his, fumbling to pull open his pants while he continued driving his fingers into you, pushing you right up to the edge, making it hard to do anything other than getting lost in the sensations coursing through you, the need and the desire for him exploding through you, your entire body trembling as you lost all ability to think.

“Y/N, come back to me, doll,” Bucky purred.

You nodded, gasping with need as you unbuttoned his jeans, cock laying bare behind the zipper, hard and throbbing, pulsing as your fingers drifted over it. A strangled groan came from him as you wrapped your fingers around him, pulling him free of his clothing and stroking him, your fingers tracing the vein on the underside of his cock, pre-come leaking onto your palm.

“God, that feels good,” he groaned, his hips flexing as he thrust into your hand, his hands in your hair, pulling you to him, your mouth slanted over his.

You continued kissing even as he lifted you with his hands on your waist and pulled you forward, his cock in one hand, the tip gliding through the lips of your pussy, and then he was inside you, pushing in fast and hard, burying himself deep inside of you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair, Bucky’s face buried against the soft swell of your breasts, his teeth gently nipping at the sensitive skin, marking you as you rode him slow and easy.

Bucky reached up and took your hands, pinning them behind your back with one of his, his metal hand on your waist, holding you in place. He wrapped his lips around your breast, teasing the nipple with his teeth and tongue as his hips shot up off of the vinyl seat, fucking you hard.

“Jesus, doll,” he rasped. “Harder, baby. I need you to ride me harder.”

You did as he asked, riding him harder and faster, his cock sliding in and out of you, a low moan building to a crescendo on your lips, your eyes locked on Bucky’s, his own pleasure written all over his face.

Bucky released your hands, his own sliding up your back to your shoulders, gripping them tight, pulling you down as he thrust up into you. You braced your hands on the back of the chair, fingers digging into the cheap vinyl. Your knees were slamming into the back of the seat, but every bruise you were sure to have would be completely worth it. You could feel the hot throb of Bucky’s cock inside of you, feel his breath on your skin, his hands caressing your body, all of it combined together to pull a mind-blowing orgasm from you, a too loud scream tearing from your throat as the ecstasy encompassed your entire being. 

You threw your head back and let the orgasm take you, still rocking in Bucky’s lap, his cock pulsing as he came, a deep groan rumbling through his chest. When it was over, he hugged you to his chest, his hands running up and down your back, his lips pressed to the top of your head.

“I guess you really are fine,” you murmured.

“Told you I was,” Bucky chuckled, his chest rumbling under your ear. He lifted you, setting you on your feet, standing with you. He handed you your shirt, then the two of you spent the next few minutes cleaning up.

When you were put back together, Bucky gestured for you to have a seat, while he leaned against the desk in front of you. “I need to talk to you, doll,” he sighed.

“About what?” you asked.

“I’m leaving in a couple of days,” he said.

“What do you mean, leaving?” you murmured, your eyes narrowing.

“We’re following a lead on the quinjet accident,” he explained. “Steve and I. We thought it might have been Harvey, that he somehow told HYDRA where to find you. Tony ran his cell phone records and checked into everyone he had contact with during the hearings. He’s sure it wasn’t Harvey. But, he has a lead. Steve and I are going to check it out.”

“Why do you have to go?” You felt like a petulant child asking her parents why they had to go to work, but you didn’t want Bucky to leave, you didn’t want him putting himself in danger, especially for you.

“Because Natasha and Clint are checking out a couple of other leads,” Bucky replied. “Sam is going to stay here, with Tony, to keep an eye on you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Bucky,” you snapped, more harshly than you’d intended. 

“Actually, you do,” Bucky said, his tone matching yours, leaving you no room to argue. “Until this shit with HYDRA is taken care of and we know for sure they aren’t going to try and kill you, you’ll have a babysitter, whether you like it or not. And we have to go now, before the next hearing in two weeks. You’re not going to D.C. without me and Steve as your protection detail. I won’t let you.”

You swallowed past the lump rising in your throat. “But they almost killed you -”

“Which is exactly why I have to find out who did this,” he interrupted. “Only a few people knew about that bullet and I need to know who decided to use it against me. Once I do, I’m going to make sure they can’t do it again.”

“What if they kill you this time?” The tears were sliding down your cheeks, despite your attempts to hold them back. “I almost lost you once, I-I can’t go through that again.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, kneeling in front of you, scooping up your hands and holding them in his. “You have to trust me.”

“I trust you,” you whispered. “It’s the rest of the world I worry about.”

“I know,” he smiled gently. “I promise I’ll come back to you in one piece.”

“That’s a hefty promise,” you sighed. You leaned over, your forehead pressed to his. “You better keep it.”

“I swear I’ll come back to you, Y/N,” he promised.

You closed your eyes and nodded. You wanted to believe him, you really did. But you also knew that HYDRA would do whatever it took to eliminate you - and anyone protecting you.

“Not Bucky,” you silently prayed. “Please God, not Bucky.”


	22. The Night Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before Steve and Bucky leave to find the HYDRA informant, you and Bucky spend some time together. The two of you take a huge step in your relationship.

“None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for me,” you muttered. “This is all my fault.” 

Bucky shook his head as he shoved the small pile of clothes in his hand into his duffel bag. “None of this is your fault, doll. None of it.” He dropped the full bag on the floor by the door, then he took your hand, pulling you into his arms.

“I never should have -”

“Never should have what, Y/N?” Bucky interrupted. “Gone to work for Wilner? Told someone about what you found? Stood up for what you believed in? If you hadn’t done any of those things, we never would have met -”

“You never would have almost died,” you cut him off, shaking your head and staring at the floor.

“Y/N, listen to me,” he said, sitting on the bed and pulling you into his lap. “I wouldn’t change a damn thing. Because this, what you and I have, that’s not something I ever thought I would get. Yes, this whole goddamn nightmare sucks ass, but it brought you into my life. I will do whatever it takes to protect that.”

You didn’t even realize you were crying until Bucky wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb, cupping your face in his hand. His metal hand was on your waist, a comforting weight, his other arm sliding around you, easily lifting you with one arm to hug you against his chest, his lips on your neck, murmuring something you weren’t really hearing because you were lost in the feeling of his hands on you. 

Bucky’s hand slipped beneath your shirt, sliding up your side to your breast, his thumb brushing your nipple, a light, gentle touch, enough to bring it to attention. You raised your arms over your head, allowing him to pull your shirt off and drop it to the floor. He mouthed your breasts through the flimsy fabric of your bra, the scruff covering his chin and cheeks scratching and tickling your sensitive skin.

You reached back and unhooked your bra, letting it fall between your bodies. Bucky growled low in the back of his throat as he took your breast in his mouth, suckling it greedily. God, the things he could make you feel with just his mouth. You were so consumed with what those lips and that tongue were doing that you didn’t even register the fact that he’d slipped his fingers inside the front of your damp underwear, teasing you.

You tugged at the black t-shirt he was wearing, running your hands over the muscles of his shoulders and arms, lightly dancing over the thick scars on his shoulder, his eyes slipping closed as he endured your touch. Touching him was like touching a marble statue of a Greek god, hard lines and well-formed muscles, the scars marking his skin only making him more attractive. You leaned over him and pressed a kiss to one of the scars on his shoulder, humming quietly. You felt him tense beneath you, his fingers curling around yours, holding your hand as he let you kiss him.

With a harsh gasp, Bucky picked you up, set you on your feet, and tugged off your pajama pants and underwear, his mouth wet, open, and eager against your stomach as he removed the rest of your clothes. You could hear his breath tearing in and out of his throat, you could feel his sudden impatience emanating from him as he pulled you back down on the bed, lying you beneath him, his hips settling between your legs. His cock was a hard, thick line straining against the buttons of his jeans as he ground against you. He caught your lips in his, the kiss making your toes curl and your heart race.

One hand pushed between your bodies, his fingers sliding through the slick lips of your pussy, his thumb circling your already swollen clit. He bit at your neck, a hard nip that stung deliciously, two of his thick fingers easing into you, filling you, pumping slow and easy, dragging out the pleasure. He rested his forehead against yours, your breath mingling as he worked you over. 

“Jesus, Bucky,” you groaned, your hips rising to meet his fingers, a shudder running through you. You were close, ready to come from just the last few minutes with him, the coil in the pit of your stomach so tight it was almost painful. 

He added a third finger, three knuckles deep, the palm of his hand pressed against your clit, and that was all it took, the orgasm rocketing through you, your stomach flipping, your walls clenching around his fingers, a sharp gasp escaping you.

“Fuck me,” you moaned, your head thrown back, your hands wrapped around Bucky’s arms, your nails digging into the skin.

“Mmm, just wait, doll,” he whispered in your ear, his fingers thrusting madly in and out of you, your hips bucking wildly against his hand as the orgasm worked its way through you.

When you finally started to come down from the insane high of the orgasm, you were acutely aware of the hot flush all over your body, the obscene sounds coming out of your mouth, and your insatiable appetite for Bucky. His lips were on your neck, licking and sucking a trail from your collarbone to your jaw as he dragged his fingers from your overstimulated pussy and fumbled at the button of his jeans.

You pushed his hand away and unbuttoned them, struggling to pull them down while pushing Bucky off of you and onto his back. Bucky quickly pushed off the bothersome denim and his boxer briefs and sat back against the headboard, watching you, his blue eyes hooded and dark with lust. You kneeled between his legs, taking in his broad shoulders, the intimidating size of his biceps, the tight abdominal muscles, his cock hard and pulsing where it lay it against his stomach, leaking pre-come. You leaned over him and placed a kiss to the inside of his thigh, kneading the muscles of his leg. You took hold of his hard shaft, stroking him carefully, your tongue sliding along the vein on the underside. He trembled beneath you, his hand brushing through your hair, cupping the back of your head as you took the head of his cock between your lips.

Bucky moaned your name, his hips rising off the bed, pushing himself deep into your mouth. You grasped the base of his cock, using short, even strokes as you pulled him between your lips. You took as much of him as possible, your cheeks hollowed, sucking and licking, your tongue sliding up and down the long shaft, then swirling around the head before swallowing him down again.

He lifted you, moving so quickly, so smoothly you barely noticed it, lying you beneath him, hovering over you, his mouth on yours, his tongue shoving into your mouth, exploring every inch of it, tasting himself on your lips. He slipped one arm beneath you, his cock brushing against your entrance, teasing you, as his kiss consumed you.

“Jesus Christ,” he growled. He took hold of himself, stroking his length several times before slowly entering you, one glorious inch after another, his arms trembling as he held himself above you, his lips roaming over your neck, your jaw, your shoulders. You opened your legs and grabbed his ass, pulling him into you until he was fully seated, filling you completely. 

He moved slowly, tight, careful thrusts, pulling out almost all the way before easing back into you, your leg sliding up around his waist, your hips rising to meet every thrust from Bucky. You were both gasping for air, your breath intermingling, Bucky’s hips pumping, harder and faster, pushing you closer and closer to another orgasm, erratic thrusting that had you squeezing your eyes closed and pulling him tight against you, until you let go and you were coming, hard.

Bucky rocked into you, once, twice, a third time, and then he was coming himself, the two of you so intertwined that you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began, pleasure encompassing both of you in a tight cocoon of satisfaction.

When it was over, he laid sprawled over your chest, his weight shifted to one side. He kissed you, over and over, more times than you could count, his hands gently caressing you as he whispered in your ear, quiet reassurances, promises you prayed he could keep. Everything was pushing you back to the edge of arousal - his touch, his smell, his  _ goddamn _ words, all of it had you desperate for him, had you pulling his hand between your legs, begging him for more.

“Bucky, please,” you moaned.

“I got you, doll,” he murmured. “I got you.” He rolled you to your stomach, two fingers sliding into you, pumping slowly, dragging out the sensations. He twisted his fingers, pressing them against your most sensitive spot, sending heat rushing through you and an unbelievable burst of pleasure through every nerve ending.

You buried your face in the pillow, a low keen escaping you as you ground against his fingers, wave after wave of pure bliss washing over you, leaving you a writhing mess.

“Spread your legs, baby,” he breathed.

You did as he instructed, letting him lead the way, trusting him. He entered you in one easy move, a low growl rippling from deep in his throat. “Fuck, Y/N,” he grunted. “You feel so good.” He brushed a kiss across your shoulder as he began to move, his hips flexing as he thrust into you.

“Oh my God,” you moaned, pushing back against him, clutching the blankets so tight your knuckles ached.

Bucky’s hands roamed over your back and shoulders, one hand on your waist, his metal hand between your legs, his fingers seeking and easily finding your clit, circling it as he slammed into you repeatedly.

You were consumed, completely gone, lost in the feelings Bucky was pulling from you. You moved with him, push and pull, both of you moving faster and faster until you came again with a muffled cry of Bucky’s name.

His hand tightened on your waist as he dove into you, so deep and hard it felt like you couldn’t breathe for a second, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside you, a low moan rumbling through him. 

Both of you collapsed to the bed, gasping for air. Bucky grabbed your chin, turning your head so he could kiss you. He released you, too soon as far as you were concerned, and climbed out of the bed, disappearing into the bathroom. He returned a few minutes later, a warm washcloth in his hands. He used it to clean you up, then he returned to your side, and pulled the blankets over both of you.

You turned to face him, your hand on his cheek, your thumb brushing his cheekbone. “Are you really going to go tomorrow?” you asked.

“We talked about this, Y/N,” he sighed. “I have to go.”

“You don’t have to go,” you murmured. “You want to go.”

“You’re right, I do want to go,” he said. “I want this to be over. I don’t want to keep you on lockdown all the time, I don’t want to constantly worry that someone is going to kill you and take you away from me, I don’t want HYDRA to win. I know you don’t like it, I know you don’t want me to go, and for that, I’m sorry, but I am going.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded. There would be no arguing with Bucky, not about this. You wouldn’t win and you knew it.

“I’m going to worry about you,” you whispered.

“I know,” he smiled gently. “All I can do is promise you that I’ll be careful.”

“I guess that’ll have to do,” you said. You scooted closer to Bucky, threw your arm around his waist, and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “I’ll still worry, though.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he chuckled. “I’ll be fine. I swear.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. “You know, while I’m gone, you should move your stuff in here,”

“What?” You tipped your head back to look into his eyes.

“Unless you don’t want to?” he said, the smile fading from his face.

“No, no, I do,” you laughed, kissing him excitedly. “I just...you surprised me, that’s all.”

Bucky pulled you back into his arms, his mouth slanting over yours, his body flush against yours. You fell asleep surrounded by his warmth.

* * *

The sun wasn’t even up when Bucky climbed out of bed and quietly dressed in the dark. He had no idea you were awake, had been awake the second he’d gotten out of bed, your body craving his warmth, his solidness, resting beside you. You watched him move around the room, pulling on his leathers, securing his weapons, shoving a few more things in his duffel bag. If you hadn’t been awake, he certainly wouldn’t have been the one to wake you; he was absolutely silent. It was one of the things he did that reminded you of his true nature, reminded you of the things he’d been trained to do. Once he’d finished, he stopped at the side of the bed, one hand beside your head, the other resting lightly on your hip. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I love you, doll,” he whispered, and then he was gone, his duffel bag in one hand, the door closing quietly behind him.


	23. Learn to Live With It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You move into Bucky’s quarters while anxiously awaiting his return from the mission to find the HYDRA informant.

“Wow, that didn’t take long,” you mumbled, dropping the small box on the floor at the end of the bed. “I guess I had even less stuff than I thought I did.”

Wanda followed you into Bucky’s room and set the large duffel bag she was carrying beside the box. She wrapped an arm around your shoulders and hugged you gently. “You okay?” she asked.

“It’s depressing to think that my entire life fits into one box and a duffel bag,” you sighed.

“The quality of our lives isn’t determined by the number of things we own,” Wanda said. “You’ve got Bucky, right? He’s worth more than any material possession.”

“I’d be lost without Bucky,” you nodded, tears welling up in your eyes.

“And he’d be lost without you,” Wanda replied.

“You think?” you asked, wiping a hand over your eyes.

“I know,” Wanda grinned. “We all know. Trust me, Y/N, you are Bucky’s world. Why do you think he’s been so adamant about finding the HYDRA informant? He will do whatever it takes to protect you. And he expects no less from the rest of us, too. Your safety is his number one priority.”

You blushed, shaking your head in disbelief. You knew Bucky loved you, but to think that you took priority over everything in his life was hard to fathom. You’d never been anyone’s priority before and most days, you still had a hard time understanding why you would be Bucky’s. You were nobody, nothing, a small cog in a giant mechanism, certainly not worth laying his life on the line. Which was exactly what he kept doing, over and over again. It was difficult to understand why.

“Excuse me, Ms. Y/L/N?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. interjected. “Mr. Stark wanted me to let you know that Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers are about to invade the HYDRA base. Agent Romanoff is providing aerial support and surveillance if you’d like to watch from the conference room.”

“Thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” you replied. “We’ll be right there.”

* * *

You were squeezing the armrests of the chair so hard your knuckles ached. Tony and Pepper had joined you in the conference room, along with Wanda, the four of you watching the large screen at one end of the room. Bucky, Steve, and Clint were on the ground, moving in on a small farmhouse; the location of the secluded HYDRA base. 

There were multiple camera angles on the screen, both overhead and what appeared to be a camera on Clint’s uniform. You could see Bucky walking several paces behind Steve, who had his shield up, while Bucky had his gun raised. The sun was dipping behind the horizon and the earth was cast in shadows. They were moving slowly through a field toward the back of the one level farmhouse.

”Sam? Heat signatures?” Steve asked, the sound coming clearly through the room’s speakers.

“At least six inside, four or five outside,” Sam replied. “There’s a huge block of heat - not human - in what looks like a basement. I’m thinking it’s most likely servers and computers. Natasha?”

“Get me in there and I’ll get into whatever system they’re using,” you heard the Black Widow respond, though you didn’t see her.

“Where’s Natasha?” you whispered to Wanda.

“She’s in a quinjet, she and Sam are monitoring things from above,” Wanda replied. “Steve insisted on it.”

The sound of a gunshot echoing through the room startled you, drawing your attention back to the screen. You saw Steve’s shield fly through the air, hitting someone with a loud thunk, then bouncing off of a pillar on the wraparound porch before returning to his hand. Bucky raised his gun and squeezed the trigger three times, dropping three different people lurking in the shadows. You hadn’t even seen them.

Chaos erupted - weapons firing, people yelling, insanity at every turn. Clint was running, the camera jumping like crazy as he fired arrows through the air. Your eyes darted to the other feed, the one from above, but you couldn’t find Bucky, couldn’t make him out in the melee erupting on the screens. You sat forward, your hands on your knees, gnawing at your lower lip, desperate to find Bucky, to make sure he was okay, that nothing had happened to him.

Wanda’s hand closed over yours, squeezing gently. “He’ll be okay, Y/N,” she murmured.

You shook your head. “I’m just so scared,” you whispered. “I was so close to losing him once before -”

“Steve won’t let that happen,” Wanda said. “None of us are going to let that happen.”

You nodded, though your heart was still thundering in your chest and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You weren’t worth all of this, you weren’t worth Bucky risking his life.

An explosion echoed through the room, bringing Tony and Wanda to their feet. The camera feed from the quinjet began to spin uncontrollably, the screen flickering for several seconds before going black. The only feed left, the one from Clint’s uniform, went black ten seconds later, but not before you heard someone screaming and Steve yelling Bucky’s name.

* * *

Seven hours and thirty-two minutes.

It had been seven hours and thirty-two minutes since the feeds from the cameras had abruptly ended. Seven hours and thirty-two minutes since Tony and Wanda had left the compound, intent on getting to the team on the ground.

Seven hours and thirty-two minutes of waiting for word from someone, anyone.

“Why does this keep happening?” you muttered, mostly to yourself.

“I’m sorry?” Pepper asked.

“Sorry, Pepper,” you sighed shakily. “I just...just...I feel like this keeps happening, this uncertainty, this fear, almost losing Bucky over and over.”

“I’d say you get used to it,” Pepper said, “but I’d be lying.” She shifted uneasily before rising to her feet and snatching a bottle of wine from the counter and pouring two glasses. She held one out to you. “Loving someone like Tony, it’s not easy. You have to accept the things they do, you have to learn to live with the constant fear, the overwhelming terror that you will eventually lose them that eats away at you every day. If you’re going to love someone like Bucky, there’s a lot you have to learn to live with.”

“How do you do it?” you murmured, sipping your wine.

Pepper shook her head, her strawberry blonde hair flying around her face. “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I wish I could give you a definitive answer. I wish I had some profound words of wisdom. But I don’t. You power through. Every day is a trial, every day is hard. You just have to do your best. And keep loving him. You do love him, right?”

“So much,” you nodded.

“Then you keep doing that,” she said. “That’s what Bucky needs.”

“Ms. Potts, Mr. Stark and the rest of the team have returned,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. announced. “The quinjet is landing on the north side of the complex.”

“Go,” Pepper announced. “I’ll be right behind you.”

You sprinted out of the common room, running at full speed toward the north side of the Avengers’ compound. You burst through the door just as the ramp hit the ground and the first people began to disembark. Steve was helping Clint, while Sam had an arm around Natasha, practically carrying her down the ramp, followed closely by Tony and Wanda. As soon as Wanda saw you, she pointed over her shoulder. You pushed past the others, scrambling up the ramp, your eyes immediately landing on Bucky.

“Hey, doll,” he smiled.

You slammed into him, your arms going around his neck, pulling him down to kiss you. He laughed and hugged you close. 

“I was so worried about you,” you whispered.

“I’m good,” he said. “I told you I would be.”

“God, I missed you,” you said, your lips pressed to his cheek. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Did you find out who is doing this? Who the HYDRA informant is?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded. “It was Senator Jolson.”

You took a step back, staring into Bucky’s grayish-blue eyes. “Senator Jolson? The head of the committee investigating HYDRA and Senator Wilner? The senator from Illinois?”

“Yes, Y/N, Senator Jolson,” Bucky said.

_ “Thank you for coming, Ms. Y/L/N,” Senator Jolson murmured, shaking your hand. “I know this wasn’t easy for you. Your cooperation is very much appreciated.” _

_ You smiled graciously at the Senator from Illinois. “Thank you, ma’am. I hope it helped.” _

_ “More than you know,” she responded. “We can count on you to testify again, if necessary, correct?’ _

_ “Of course,” you nodded. “Whatever you need.” _

“What’s going to happen to her?” you asked, your head spinning with the realization that someone you’d known and trusted had been behind the attempt on your life. Again.

“She’s on her way to a secure location,” Bucky explained. “Steve and Tony are going to interrogate her later. We’re hoping she’ll agree to cooperate, maybe we can find some other HYDRA agents through her.”

“Does that mean it’s over? Am I safe now?” you murmured.

“I don’t know,” Bucky replied. “I wish I could say yes, but Senator Jolson could be a small cog in a bigger wheel. That’s two senators that have been working with HYDRA. Who knows how many more there are? Tony is going to have Natasha dig into everyone’s background, as far back as she can, see if there are any connections that seem suspicious.”

“Is that legal?” you asked.

“Not exactly,” Bucky chuckled. “But when did that ever stop Tony?” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Look, I’m exhausted, doll. I haven’t slept in days. What do you say we head back to my quarters and get some shut-eye?”

“Whatever you want to do,” you nodded. You really didn’t care what you did, as long as you were with him.

Bucky slung an arm around your waist, dragging you close, his lips pressed to your temple. It was good to have him back, safe and sound.

* * *

Bucky must have been tired because he shed his clothes as soon as he was through the door of his room, then he was falling to the bed, gesturing for you to join him. You crawled in beside him and let him wrap you in his arms, your limbs tangled together. He buried his nose against the side of your neck and promptly fell asleep.

The sound of the alarm startled you, drawing you out of a deep sleep. You snuggled closer to the warm body wrapped around you, groaning as the alarm continued incessantly beeping. Bucky reached over you, squishing you beneath him.

“Bucky,” you grunted, “I can’t breathe.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He grabbed his phone, silenced the alarm, then dropped it back on the bedside table. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and sat up, somehow managing to crawl over you without suffocating you.

You burrowed deeper under the covers, pulling them over your head, not quite ready to get up yet. It was too warm and too comfortable in the bed.

“Where are you going?” you mumbled.

“I need a shower before my debrief,” Bucky yawned, stopping in front of the bathroom door.

“Debrief?” you muttered. “Come back to bed, debrief later.”

“Not how it works, doll,” he chuckled. “Stark wants a blow by blow and he’s gonna get it. There were some major fuck ups with this mission and we’re gonna make sure he knows about it.”

You propped yourself up on one elbow. “What kind of fuck ups?” you asked.

“Big ones that could have cost people their lives,” Bucky said. “Almost did. Clint got hurt, a quinjet was shot down, and Natasha nearly died. Major fuck ups. Trust me, I’m going to the debrief and making sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“I had no idea,” you replied, pushing yourself up, the blankets pooling in your lap, your eyes narrowing. “So, it was bad. As in you could have been hurt? Again?”

Bucky shook his head. “I’m fine, doll. I told you, you have nothing to worry about.” He flipped on the bathroom light. “In fact, come shower with me and I’ll show you just how good I am.”

You scrambled out of the bed, hurrying after Bucky, stripping off your clothes as you went. Bucky had the water running by the time you got to the bathroom and was pulling his hair into a low ponytail at the base of his skull. He stepped into the shower, holding the door open for you.

You followed him in, wincing as the too hot water hit your skin. Bucky reached past you and adjusted the temperature, his hands dropping to your waist when he was done, pushing you against the wall of the shower stall. He was warm and soft as he leaned into you, catching your lips in his.

“Mmm, good morning, doll,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, rose up on your toes, and pressed a kiss firmly to his lips. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Me too,” he sighed, his hand sliding up your waist, settling on your breast, his thumb gently circling the nipple. “Did you get all of your stuff moved in?”

“I thought you forgot,” you replied, your back arching to push yourself into his hand. He was making it very hard to concentrate.

“Of course I didn’t forget,” he grinned. “So, did you?”

“Yep, my one box and one duffel of stuff are all moved in,” you laughed. “Now, can we stop talking and get to the making out?”

Bucky threw his head back and laughed, hugging you close. “You’re a little minx,” he growled. “What have I done to you?” His nose brushed along the lines of your throat, his tongue darting out to lap at the water dripping down your neck.

You shivered, and not because of the cold tiles against your back or the water rushing over you. Bucky pressed you against the wall of the shower, sucking gently at your neck, just beneath your ear, his metal hand still tenderly caressing your breast, the other cupping the back of your head, holding you close to him. He lazily kissed your jaw, nipping at the soft skin, a contented hum rumbling through his chest as his hands moved over your body. He caught your lips in his, biting at the lower one, his tongue tracing over it until you opened your mouth. Bucky pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, his hard, perfect body flush against yours.

You moaned, the sound swallowed by Bucky’s mouth covering yours as the water washed over both of you, droplets clinging to his skin, sliding down his body like a lover’s caress, dripping from the tendrils of hair that had slipped loose of his ponytail, splashing across your face.

“God, I fucking love the sounds you make when I touch you,” Bucky murmured, his voice filled with lust, his hand sliding down your stomach, his fingers teasing you, caressing you, making you squirm with anticipation.

“Bucky,” you gasped.

He pressed a kiss to your lips, one finger sliding into you. You moaned again, a deep throaty sound that had Bucky smiling - most likely smirking - against your lips. Another finger joined the first, his thumb pressing against the tiny bundle of nerves, your body responding to his touch like it always did, like there was a fire burning under your skin, a fire you couldn’t extinguish.

Bucky’s arm slid around your waist, his fingers slowly pumping in and out of you, while he kissed you tenderly. The hot water was pouring over you, both of you, steam filling the room, your body flushed with warmth. The palm of his hand was pressed hard against your clit, his fingers pumping ever so slowly in and out of your wet heat, your breath tearing in and out of your throat, your hips bucking. You caught your lower lip between your teeth, moaning obscenely.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling it from its binding, pressing your body against his, wanting him so badly that every muscle in your body was screaming with need. Tiny, mewling, greedy sounds were falling from your mouth, intermixed with Bucky’s name.

“God, doll, those sounds,” he groaned. “You’re so fucking perfect.” He rained kisses over your neck and shoulders, his tongue tracing over the trails of water running down your body. His fingers moved inside of you, sending you reeling. “I want to hear you scream.”

“Yes, Jesus, Bucky, yes,” you gasped.

Bucky lifted you, pulling your legs around his waist, rubbing the head of his cock against the wet lips of your pussy before lowering you onto his hard length. You groaned as he filled you, your head resting on his shoulder, your fingers digging into his shoulder. He kept one arm around your waist, the other flat against the wall over your head. He kissed you, long and hard, his hips flexing, his hard abs pressing into you as he buried himself deep inside of you, sending tingles of pleasure shooting through you.

You held on as Bucky slammed into you repeatedly, short, tight thrusts that had you begging him to fuck you harder, to move faster, the coil in the pit of your stomach tightening rapidly, close to snapping in no time at all. His mouth was a constant presence on your neck, your shoulders, your lips, his hands holding you tight.

“Harder, Bucky,” you gasped, your fingers twisting in his hair, tugging roughly while you pushed yourself down onto him, desperate to feel every inch of him inside you.

His lips skimmed your jaw, soft gentle kisses. He sucked your earlobe between his teeth, nipping it gently. He eased back, pulling almost completely free of you before slamming back into you, knocking you against the tile wall. You were close, so close you could feel the orgasm within your grasp, building, and building, a high pitched keening sound working its way out of you as the sensations moved through you.

“That’s it, doll,” Bucky purred. “Let me hear those sounds that pretty mouth makes.”

You nodded weakly, barely coherent. All that mattered was Bucky and the subtle tilt of his hips, slow and easy at first, but after a few seconds, he let loose, pistoning them rapidly as he thrust into you. He caught your lips in his, sucking your tongue into his mouth, his moans of pleasure mixing with your needy whimpers. You hit your peak, drowning in the waves of ecstasy washing over you.

Bucky was right behind you, pulling you down onto his cock, burying himself inside of you with one last, hard thrust, groaning your name as he came. He slipped a hand between your bodies, teasing your clit with the tip of his fingers, working you through the orgasm still rushing through you, kissing your neck gently, the three-day-old scruff on his cheeks and chin scratching your throat.

When he finally set you on your feet, your legs were trembling, so much so that you could barely hold yourself up. Bucky held you with one arm around your waist and his fingers tangled in your hair, his kisses sweet and tender, waiting until you stopped shaking.

“I missed you, doll,” he whispered, his nose brushing against yours.

“I missed you, too,” you sighed, pulling him into a kiss. “I hate it when you leave.”

“I know,” he whispered. “Hazards of the job.”

“Sergeant Barnes, your presence is requested in conference room A,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice echoed through the room.

“I’ll be right there, F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” Bucky sighed. “Five minutes.”

“I’ll inform Captain Rogers,” the AI replied.

“Gotta go,” he murmured, brushing a kiss across your lips. He quickly washed up, grabbed a towel, and disappeared out the door, leaving you to shower alone.


	24. This Too Shall Pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You work up the nerve to tell Bucky what you want. Your night is unexpectedly interrupted.

You hurried through the dimly lit corridors, moving as quickly and as quietly as possible, your heels in your hand, rushing back to Bucky’s room.

“Our room,” you silently corrected yourself.

Bucky had been gone for hours, almost the entire day, thanks to a last-minute decision by Steve that Bucky should join him and Tony at Senator Jolson’s interrogation. Any plans you’d had to spend time with him had been put on hold.

In order to keep yourself occupied, you’d decided to work late, catching up on some paperwork you’d neglected the last couple of weeks. Understandably, seeing as how you’d been dealing with a lot during that time. But when you’d received a text from Bucky telling you he was back at the compound and waiting for you, you’d made a neat pile of the papers on the corner of your desk, and hurried from your office.

You burst through the door and promptly ran right into Bucky, fresh out of the shower, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts. He jumped back in surprise, a laugh bursting out of him as you followed him, your arms going around his neck, your lips crashing into his.

“I missed you,” you laughed.

“Doll, you just saw me this morning,” he chuckled.

“That was forever ago,” you shook your head. Ever since Bucky’s near death, you couldn’t seem to get enough of him. You wanted to spend every possible second with him, which you knew was impossible, though it didn’t stop you from craving it. “I need you, Bucky. Every second of every day.”

Bucky smiled, his hands on your waist, squeezing gently. “Jesus, Y/N, hearing you say that -” He didn’t finish what he was saying, instead he ducked his head, his lips brushing against yours, soft, gentle.

You leaned into him, your arms tightening around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair, tugging slightly. “I need you, Bucky,” you murmured again. “Now.”

He cocked his head to one side, one eyebrow raised, an amused expression on his face. “Oh, yeah? Right now? Aren’t you tired after working so late?”

“I’m never too tired for you,” you whispered.

“So, tell me, doll, what do you want me to do with you?” He was teasing you and you knew it.

“Stop teasing me,” you giggled.

“Then tell me what you want,” he shrugged.

You stared at the floor, too embarrassed to look at him. You’d never told him what you wanted before and it made you feel overwhelmed and nervous. “I-I want you to spank me,” you mumbled. “And maybe...I don’t know...maybe the sex could be, um, a little rough?”

Bucky ducked his head, forcing you to look at him. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, doll. You can always tell me what you want.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Are you sure, though?”

“I’m sure,” you nodded. “I trust you.”

Bucky pulled you back into his arms and kissed you, slow, sensual, easy. You relaxed in his arms, knowing that whatever he was planning would be good.

“You ready, doll?” he whispered.

“Always,” you sighed.

Bucky cupped the back of your head, the way he kissed you shifting, becoming rougher, harder, his tongue shoving into your mouth as he held you to him, his fingers digging into you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, returning the kiss with an insane hunger, desperate for him. You pushed a hand between your bodies and traced the line of his cock, feeling it twitch with interest at your touch. You slipped your hand past the waistband of his boxers, shoved them down his legs, and took him in your hand, stroking and caressing him.

Bucky growled, the sound almost feral. He kicked his boxers away, closed his eyes, his forehead resting against yours, his breath blowing in your face. You moaned again and leaned in to kiss him.

Lightning quick, Bucky grabbed your hands and held them above your head, pushing you backward and slamming you against the wall. He dragged his nose down your jaw, inhaling deeply, before nipping roughly at your bottom lip.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he whispered. The hard length of his cock pressed against your stomach as he slid his hand down your side and grabbed your skirt, hiking it up above your waist. His fingers twisted in the flimsy underwear you were wearing and gave them a sharp tug.

You drew in a stuttering breath and nodded.

Bucky ripped your underwear from your body and tossed them to the floor, then he yanked on the front of your shirt, the buttons flying every which way around the room. You didn’t even care. He spun you around and shoved you against the wall, holding you in place with one hand in the center of your back while his vibranium hand connected with your ass, a biting slap that had you panting for more.

“Again,” you gasped.

Bucky paused for only a moment, then he spanked you again, the slap echoing through the room, the exquisite burn making you squirm with need.

“Yes,” you hissed. “Don’t stop.”

He smoothed a hand over your ass cheek, caressing you, whispering quiet praises in your ear. He slipped his hand between your legs and eased first one then two fingers into you, pushing them in deep, your stance widening to take him in. His back pressed against yours as he pumped his fingers, scissoring you open. You pushed back against him, fucking yourself on his fingers, moaning obscenely.

Bucky put one hand on your shoulder, holding you still as he pushed into you, hard and fast. You gasped, tears springing to your eyes as his hand connected with your ass just as he pushed into you, taking you by surprise. He slid his arm around your waist, his cheek pressed to your back, his fingers digging into your shoulder. He yanked you backward as he thrust into you, burying himself so deep inside of you that you felt it in every nerve ending.

“Jesus,” you moaned, bracing your hands against the wall and pushing back against him, wanting all of him, wanting to feel every inch of him, wanting him to take control of you.

Bucky pulled out, his hands moving down your sides, stopping only long enough to roughly squeeze your breast before continuing to your hips, gripping them tightly as his own hips snapped forward, his substantial length slamming back into you, smacking your ass again, a sharp, stinging slap.

A guttural, incoherent sound left you and you felt like your breath had been knocked right out of you. You dropped your head, resting it against your arm, your nails scraping the wall. You almost collapsed, the sensations Bucky managed to pull out of you were intense and overwhelming, they always had been, making your knees weak. But this, the way he was making you feel, it was pain and pleasure and perfection rolled into one unbelievable feeling.

Bucky’s breath was hot against your neck, his hands burning everywhere they touched, every drag of his cock making you ache with need, ache with need for him and the way he made you feel. You pushed back against him, unable to stop yourself from begging him to take you, to use you.

“Harder,” you groaned.

He pounded into you, taking what he wanted, what he needed, his hands brutally tight on your hips, holding you in place as he took what he wanted and gave you more than he might ever know.

Bucky set a manic pace, pounding into you, relentless. The room was filled with the sounds of his groans and your gasps, the slap of skin against skin, two bodies moving toward the ultimate release. He held you so tight it hurt, his movements becoming more and more erratic, until he thrust into you one last time, burying himself to the root, a deep grunt coming from him as he came.

A shudder raced through you, your heart hammering in your chest, all-consuming pleasure taking over your entire body, the orgasm so good it almost hurt. You gasped and sagged against the wall, struggling to keep yourself upright, your legs weak and trembling, barely holding you up.

Bucky scooped you up and carried you to the bathroom. He gently set you on the floor and stripped your remaining clothes off, then he got a warm washcloth and cleaned you up. Five minutes later you were in bed, blankets pulled up to your chin, pressed against Bucky’s side, your hand lying loosely in his, dozing off while he read through Senator Jolson’s interrogation reports.

* * *

At first, you thought you were dreaming, a memory-dream of the explosion that had nearly killed you, but also sent you on the run. But that memory didn’t include a brown-haired, blue-eyed man leaping out of your shared bed, shoving on a pair of jeans and a shirt, grabbing a gun, and running out of the bedroom through his quarters to the door.

Another explosion, louder than the one that woke you, echoed through the compound. You scrambled out of the bed, hurrying after Bucky. You stopped halfway across the small living room, watching him carefully.

“Bucky?”

“Get under the bed, Y/N,” he ordered, pointing back toward the bedroom. “Get under there and do  _ not _ move. Don’t make a sound. And do not come out until I come back.” He yanked open the door and vanished, the door swinging shut behind him.

You turned around and sprinted back into the bedroom, dropped to the floor, and quickly crawled under the bed. You turned on your side and stared through the apartment at the door Bucky had just gone out. You could hear muffled shouting, more explosions, and what sounded like gunfire in the compound. You saw several flashes of light, bright orange, illuminating the tile floor. You clasped your hands between your breasts, silently praying.

Smoke drifted beneath the crack between the floor and the bottom of the door, slowly filling the room. Every fiber of your being was screaming at you to move, to get out from under the bed and go, but instead, you curled yourself into the fetal position, your hands wrapped around your head, fear clutching your heart.

When the door splintered, the pieces flying through the room, you had to put a hand over your mouth to stifle your scream. You were sucking in huge lungfuls of air, desperately trying to keep quiet, praying the chaos erupting outside the room would mask any sounds you were making. Two sets of boots entered the apartment, moving slowly, sidestepping the wood scattered about.

“Check everywhere,” a deep voice ordered. “We don’t have long. They won’t be able to hold off Barnes and Rogers much longer.”

“What about Jolson?” the second man asked.

“Team two is on it. Our job is to find Y/N and take her back to base. So move.”

They separated, moving in opposite directions. You could see them moving through the main living area of Bucky’s quarters. It didn’t take long before they were moving toward the door to the bedroom. You were shaking from head to toe, tears streaming down your face.

As soon as the two men entered the bedroom, they split up again, one heading toward the bathroom, the other toward the walk-in closet. You waited until their feet vanished as they stepped into the respective rooms, then you moved to the foot of the bed and eased out from under it, as quietly as possible. You hurried out of the room toward the door.

“Fuck, Turner, I got her! Heading for the door,” one of the men shouted.

You broke into a run, gloved fingertips grazing your shoulder as you fell into the hallway. You scrambled to your feet, slipping on the tiles, unable to get any traction to propel yourself forward. A hand closed around your ankle and you screamed, the sound bouncing off of the walls around you. You kicked blindly at whoever was holding you, earning yourself a startled grunt and the satisfying crunch of bone. The hand dropped away from you and you shot forward, your feet finally cooperating. You took off at a dead run, yelling Bucky’s name, the sound of bootheels closing in behind you.

Twenty feet ahead of you, Bucky rounded a corner, gun raised, eyes wild, Steve right behind him.

“Y/N!” he yelled.

“Bucky!”

A hand closed around your upper arm, stopping you in your tracks. You screamed, fighting to break free from the man holding you. He raised his gun, firing at Bucky and Steve, the bullets blocked by Steve’s shield. The man that had grabbed you wrapped his arm around your throat and dragged you back down the hall.

You struggled, to no avail. You watched as Bucky stalked toward you, the look on his face deadly. “Let her go,” he growled angrily. “Now.”

“Fuck you, Barnes,” your captor muttered. “You’ll have to come and get her.”

“Let her go and I won’t kill you,” Bucky snapped.

“You won’t be killing anyone, Barnes,” someone behind you laughed. “Not today.”

“Batroc?” Steve straightened up, his shield still raised. “What the hell?”

“Sergeant Barnes, Captain Rogers, long time no see,” the man replied. “Turner, take Ms. Y/L/N to the helicopter.”

“I won’t let you take her,” Bucky shook his head. “You’ll have to go through me.”

“I thought you might say that,” Batroc nodded. He pressed a finger to his ear, speaking quietly. 

Despite the ringing in your ears, you heard him muttering something about a missile. Turner lifted you off your feet, his grip deathly tight. As soon as your feet left the floor, Bucky moved, racing toward you, even as you were carried back down the hall. He had only gone a few feet away when the glass wall to his left exploded, glass flying everywhere, throwing Bucky and Steve against the far wall.

You screamed Bucky’s name, struggling to break free. You felt a pinch as a needle pierced your skin, a chill racing through you as the cool liquid flowed through your veins. The last thing you saw before you slipped into unconsciousness was Bucky and Steve struggling to free themselves from the debris of the broken building.


	25. Captured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re held hostage by the man who destroyed your life.

The cold was the kind of cold that seemed to seep into your bones, making you shiver from head to toe, the kind of cold that made you feel like you might not ever get warm again. The only thing you had to cover yourself with was a thin blanket, barely big enough to cover your legs. You were still in nothing more than the shorts and t-shirt you’d been wearing when you’d been taken and the room you were being held in - small, tiled, metal table, two metal chairs, a cot with a pillow and blanket tossed on it - was like being inside an icebox.

You hadn’t seen anyone since they’d dumped you in this room. You’d regained consciousness in the helicopter, but you’d kept your eyes closed and your breathing steady, hoping to gain some kind of knowledge about where they were taking you and what they wanted. Maybe it would help you get back to Bucky.

Just the thought of Bucky brought tears to your eyes and made your heart pound. You should have listened to him, done as he’d said, and stayed under the bed. You’d been foolish to try and escape, foolish to try anything at all. You wrapped your arms around yourself and leaned against the wall, fighting the overwhelming waves of despair that were threatening to pull you under.

You heard footsteps in the hall outside, then the door opened slowly. You sat up straighter, wondering who they’d sent in to talk to you.

“Senator Wilner?” you gasped.

“I’m afraid it’s not Senator anymore, Ms. Y/L/N,” he shook his head. He pulled out one of the chairs and sat down. He crossed one leg over the other, then he straightened the creases in his pants, fussing with them for a minute or so before finally raising his eyes to look at you. “You saw to that.”

You swallowed around the lump rising in your throat and pulled the thin blanket tighter around yourself. “I’m not responsible for your choices,” you murmured. “I had nothing to do with your choice to join HYDRA.”

“HYDRA is the ultimate power. It will change the world and make it a better place, bring about security never seen before on this planet. It is what humanity needs, what it craves, to survive. Forget the so-called superheroes, forget Stark’s Avengers. The world needs HYDRA.” He folded his hands in his lap, his head tipped to one side, watching you carefully.

“The people of HYDRA are murderers,” you whispered. “How is that making the world better, how is that giving it what it needs?”

Wilner scoffed, waving off your question as if it didn’t matter. “You’ll never understand. You’ve been indoctrinated to believe that all people are good, redeemable. That freedom is a right. HYDRA knows differently.”

You shook your head but you didn’t bother to argue with the former senator. It wouldn’t make a difference. You pushed a hand through your tangled hair, grimacing as it caught between your fingers. “Why am I here?” you asked.

“My son,” Wilner replied.

“Harvey?” you murmured. “This is about Harvey?”

“My son is dead because of you,” Wilner continued. “He never should have been on that jet, never should have been near you. If it wasn’t for you, he’d still be alive.”

“HYDRA killed your son -”

“Trying to get to you!” Wilner shouted, slapping his hand down on the table. “You and your Avengers dragged him into this, brought him out of hiding to testify against me, and because of that, HYDRA decided he had to be eliminated, along with you. But you lived. You survived because of that abomination, Sergeant Barnes. He kept you alive when you should have died.” He cleared his throat and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Because of you, because of Barnes and Rogers, HYDRA no longer trusts me. They believe I’ve turned against them, that I’m one of you now. They think that because they killed my son that means my loyalties have changed. I need to show them that they’re wrong.”

“So you’re turning me over to HYDRA,” you sighed.

“HYDRA has no idea I have you,” Wilner corrected you. “Not yet, anyway. They would have killed you the moment they laid their hands on you. I have other plans for you, far more ambitious plans.” He rose to his feet. gently pushed in the chair, and left the room, leaving the door open behind him.

Two huge men, dressed as orderlies, entered the room, moving quickly to drag you off the bed, one on either side of you. You kicked and screamed, fighting to get away, though you had no idea where you would go if you got away, all you knew was that you could not let them take you, could not let Wilner follow through with whatever he had planned. Your struggles were to no avail, the men too strong to fight off. Tears slid down your cheeks as they carried you from the room and down a long, dimly lit hallway.

* * *

The pain was everywhere, covering every inch of your body. It felt like your skin was stretching, your muscles expanding, an intense burning sensation setting your nerve endings on fire. You’d stopped screaming hours ago when your voice had given out and the pain had become all-encompassing, pushing everything else out of your mind.

You were strapped to a table, metal clamps on your ankles and wrists, another on your neck, holding you down. They’d creaked and groaned when the convulsions had taken over your body, the one holding your left ankle had snapped, quickly reattached by one of the orderlies.

You drifted in and out of consciousness, the surges of pain too much for you to handle, too overwhelming. Every now and then, you could see people moving around you, feel the pinch of a needle entering your arm, the burn of something coursing through your veins, the shock of electricity jolting you. Everything seemed fuzzy, dim as if you were seeing it from a great distance. Your eyelids were heavy, the burden of keeping them open too much. You let them slip closed.

Somehow, you weren’t sure how, you ended up back in the small room you’d first been held in, sprawled across the bed in a hospital gown, goosebumps covering your skin. You didn’t remember how you got there or how long you’d been there; there was no clock in the room, no windows, no way of knowing how much time had passed.

You struggled to sit up, your head spinning, gorge rising. You leaned against the wall behind the bed, your hand over your mouth, praying you wouldn’t vomit. You stayed like that until you thought you could move, gingerly placing first one foot, then the other on the floor, one hand on the edge of the bed. You stumbled to your feet, catching yourself on the back of one of the chairs before you toppled over, squeezing it so hard your knuckles were white. You sucked in giant lungfuls of air as you tried to get your bearings.

The door opened and Wilner stepped inside. “Y/N? How are you feeling?” he asked.

You ignored his question and asked one of your own. “How long have I been here?”

“Three days,” Wilner replied.

“Three days?” you repeated. “H-how...how is that possible?”

“You were unconscious during most of the procedures,” Wilner explained. “Do you remember anything?”

“Pain,” you whispered. “A lot of pain.” You swallowed thickly. “What did you do to me?”

“We made you better,” he smiled.

“I-I don’t understand,” you mumbled.

“You will,” Wilner chuckled. “Soon, I suspect.” He glanced at his watch. “The orderlies should be in soon to see you. We need to run more tests. We need more blood before we can’t get it anymore.”

“What?” You dropped ungracefully into the chair beside you, your heart was hammering, confusion and uncertainty making your head throb. You were going crazy, unable to make sense of Wilner’s cryptic answers to your questions. You wanted to scream.

Wilner smiled at you, a creepy smile that made your skin crawl. “You’ll understand soon enough, Y/N,” he said. “I promise.” He knocked his knuckles on the metal table and left, leaving you just as confused as ever.

You shifted uneasily in your seat, even as the door opened and the two orderlies entered the room. They once again took hold of you, one on each side, lifting you and dragging you out of the room. You didn’t fight them. 

Not this time.

* * *

Wilner visited you several times that day, just for a few minutes at a time. It was as if he was waiting, watching, wondering if you were going to do something. By the fourth day, you had been strapped to the table on three separate occasions, the pain a near constant companion. All of the fight had gone out of you and you had given up hope of Bucky ever coming to save you, convincing yourself that Wilner had hidden you so well that no one would ever find you, including Bucky.

You’d just been dumped back in the small room after another round on the table, your body on fire, your skin prickling, wanting nothing more than to sleep forever. You closed your eyes and curled in on yourself.

The door burst open, one of the two orderlies coming through it. He yanked you off the bed, pushing you out of the room and into the hallway. The overhead lights were flashing in a steady rhythm, the echo of a siren bouncing off the concrete walls.

“Where are we going?” you mumbled.

“Helicopter,” the orderly muttered. “You’re leaving.”

“What’s happening?” you asked, cringing at the sound of your own disembodied voice.

The orderly didn’t answer, just shot a glance at you over his shoulder, pushing you down the hall toward an open door. You could see people moving on the other side of it, though you couldn’t make out what they were doing. The sirens seemed to be getting louder as you approached the door and you could hear shouting, panicked voices, and faint screams.

The other orderly appeared in the doorway, moving quickly, sprinting toward you. He had nearly reached you when he suddenly lurched forward, falling to his knees, a startled grunt falling from his lips, followed by a spray of blood.

“Fuck!” the man holding you yelled. His hand clamped down on your arm and he yanked you in front of him.

“Let her go!”

“Bucky?” You struggled to get away from the man holding you, trying to pull free, but the grip he had on your arm was bruisingly tight. “Bucky!”

“God damn it, let her go! Now!” Bucky shouted, stalking down the hall toward you.

“Fuck you, asshole! I let her go and you kill me!” The orderly dragged you backward, keeping you positioned in front of him, using you to shield himself.

Bucky dropped to one knee, his gun raised, one eye closed. He took a deep breath and fired.

You felt the bullet hit the orderly, felt the vibration thrumming through your body, then you were falling, dragged to the floor by the now dead man still clutching your arm. You fell on top of him, a scream leaving you, his blood staining the light blue scrubs they’d dressed you in. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Bucky sprinting toward you.

“C’ mere, doll,” Bucky murmured once he reached you, pulling you to your feet and wrapping you in his arms. “Christ, I’ve been worried sick about you.”

“I d-didn’t think y-you were coming,” you stammered, the tears you had been holding back streaming down your face.

“Jesus, doll, I’ve been looking for you for days,” Bucky shook his head.

“We’ve been looking for you since they took you,” Steve added, appearing over Bucky’s right shoulder. “We would have been here sooner, but the quinjets were disabled.”

“Blown to shit might be a better explanation,” Bucky scoffed. He pushed your hair away from your face, his touch soft and gentle. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“Yes,” you murmured.

“What did they do?” he asked, his face hardening. “Who did it?”

“It was Wilner. And I don’t know what they did,” you replied. “I barely remember anything, just pain and heat, and Jesus, exhaustion. It...it was like torture.”

“Buck -” Steve interrupted.

“I know,” Bucky growled, hefting his gun to his shoulder. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Bucky led you through the halls, keeping you safe in his arms. You had no idea where you were going, but you trusted Bucky and Steve to get you out. You were fading fast, whatever they had done to you was beginning to have an effect, the exhaustion catching up with you. Bucky was practically carrying you, his arms around your waist.

“The helicopter, Buck,” Steve said, gesturing toward a door.

“Yeah, go,” Bucky nodded. “I’ll cover you.” He leaned you against the wall and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’m gonna be right back. I gotta help Steve. You stay right here.”

“Bucky, wait,” you gasped, reaching for him even as he disappeared into the night.

The inevitable shift from excruciating pain to an overwhelming urge to sleep was starting; you could feel your eyes slipping closed as your head fell back against the wall. You could hear gunfire, see flashes of light going off outside. You waited, anxious, on edge, fighting the exhaustion threatening to overtake you. You knew you couldn’t stay there, vulnerable and alone. Every time Bucky left you alone, something bad happened. Not this time. You shoved yourself away from the wall and stumbled to the door, intent on following Steve and Bucky.

Just before you got out the door, someone grabbed the back of your scrub top, dragging you backward. A surge of anger and adrenaline rushed through you. You spun around, not caring who had a hold of you, and slammed your hand into the chest of whoever it was.

The man came off of his feet and flew fifteen feet through the air, slamming into the wall on the other side of the room and sliding to the floor, his head cocked at an odd angle, blood trickling from his mouth and nose. You stared at your hands, unable to believe what you’d just done.

“Y/N!”

Standing just a few feet in front of you was Wilner, his hands up, his tone soft and quiet. “Y/N, let me help you,” he murmured. 

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” you whispered, staring at your hands.

“Let me take you to someone who can explain it,” Wilner said. “Let me take you to HYDRA.”

Anger flowed through you at the sight of the man who had caused you so much anguish, the man who had upended your life. What had he done now?

“What did you do to me?” you screamed.

Wilner took a tentative step closer, an odd smile on his face. “Everything will be fine if you just come with me.”

You shook your head as you backed away from him, the man responsible for the destruction of your life. 

“Stay away from me.”

Wilner took another step, moving in on you, his mouth hanging open, his words fading away and eyes widening as a metal arm slipped around your waist.

“You heard her, Wilner,” Bucky growled. “Back off.”

Wilner’s mouth snapped shut. “Sergeant Barnes,” he said. “This is between me and Y/N. Walk away and you won’t be hurt -”

The gun fired before the words were out of Wilner’s mouth, the bullet hitting him right between the eyes. He dropped to the floor.

“Let’s go, doll.” Bucky scooped you up, turning and sprinting out the door to the waiting helicopter, Steve in the pilot’s seat. He set you inside, tapping Steve on the shoulder. The helicopter immediately rose into the air, leaving the chaos behind.

You curled against Bucky’s side, shaking, opening and closing your hands into fists, the image of the man flying through the air and hitting the wall playing on a loop in your head. You had no idea how you had done it and you were terrified of the answer.


	26. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You return home to the Avengers Compound after your time in captivity.

“Take her to the infirmary. Now.” Bucky pushed you into the wheelchair manned by the two agents who had met the helicopter.

“Bucky, I’m fine,” you murmured, clutching at his arm. You weren’t, not really, but you didn’t want to leave Bucky’s side.

“You’re lying,” Bucky whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Go to the infirmary and I’ll be right there. I promise. Let Banner and Cho look you over.”

You sighed, but you couldn’t argue with him, not when you could barely keep your eyes open, not when every inch of your body felt like it was being stung with tiny needles. Five minutes later you were lying in one of the infirmary beds, a blood pressure cuff on your arm, nodules attached to your temples, one of Cho’s nurses fussing over you, while Banner and Cho shot questions at you. You answered them as best as you could, but the answers were slow to come, barely intelligible, your mind foggy, your body aching, throbbing, hurting.

“Where’s Bucky?” you mumbled. It wouldn’t be much longer before you fell asleep and you wanted Bucky there by your side.

“He’ll be here, soon,” Cho replied. “I promise.”

The exam continued, along with the questions. You sighed heavily as your blood was drained into a vial, your eyes examined, your ears, even your hands, and feet. Every touch stung, every sound was louder than a jet engine, every light burned your retinas.

“Bucky,” you sighed again.

“I’m right here, doll,” Bucky whispered. A cool metal hand took yours and warm lips pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You rolled to your side, toward Bucky, curling into a fetal position, eyes closed, whimpering as pain coursed through your body. Dr. Cho appeared at your side, a needle in her hand. She swiped your shoulder with an alcohol swab, then you felt a slight pinch. A strange, floating feeling encompassed you and the pain eased. You let out a shaky breath and let yourself relax, drifting in that space between consciousness and unconsciousness.

“Talk to me, doc,” you heard Bucky say an undetermined amount of time later. “What’s wrong with her?”

“From what I can see, there’s nothing wrong with her,” Banner said.

“But, the pain -”

“Is perfectly normal considering what she’s been through,” Banner finished.

“And what exactly is that? What did Wilner do to her?”

“We ran some tests,” Dr. Cho said. “Her blood has a high concentration of the same chemical compounds found in Steve’s blood, in yours, and to an extent, in Bruce’s. There are also other chemicals that we haven’t yet identified.”

“Chemicals like the ones in the serum used on me and Steve?” Bucky murmured.

“Similar, though different, like yours was different from Steve’s, as was the one I used on myself,” Banner explained. “We’re still trying to figure out how different and what it means for her. We also don’t know if they used radiation and if they did, what form it was in. That could make all the difference in the world.”

“Are the effects permanent?” Bucky asked.

“Most likely,” Dr. Banner continued. “Though it remains to be seen. We should know more over the next few days. From what she’s told us, the last dose was administered a day or so ago. How the serum interacts with her body is dependent on her genetic makeup. You know, from experience, that it’s different for everyone. Plus, we have no idea what bastardized version of the serum Wilner was using. All we can do right now is keep her comfortable and wait.”

“I’m staying with her.”

The protective, no-room-for-argument tone of Bucky’s voice brought a smile to your face. You let yourself relax, for the first time since you’d been taken, your body sinking into the pillows, a pleasant warmth surrounding you. You were almost asleep when the comforting weight of Bucky’s hand settled on your hip and his warm breath brushed the lobe of your ear.

“You’re safe now, doll. You’re home and you’re safe.”

* * *

You scrubbed the towel over your face and pushed a hand through your sweat-dampened hair, waiting patiently as Dr. Cho removed the electrodes attached to your skin.

“Well?” you asked.

“Nothing abnormal,” she replied, flipping through the file in her hand. “It’s like every other test we’ve run the last two weeks. All of your vitals appear normal, there aren’t any spikes in adrenaline, endorphins, nothing. The only thing is the serum, though it doesn’t seem to be affecting you.”

“So, what does that mean? What happened to that man, the one I hit, was it just a fluke, some adrenaline-fueled reaction, like someone lifting a car off of a loved one? Something like that?”

“You said you were scared and angry?” Dr. Cho murmured. “You know about Bruce -”

“When he’s angry or scared, he changes to the Hulk,” you nodded. “We...we’ve talked a few times. I asked if it was possible to push me, to see if something would happen. He doesn’t want to chance it.”

“And I agree with him,” Dr. Cho nodded.

“So do I,” Bucky interjected, striding across the room. “It’s not happening.”

“Buck -” you shook your head.

“It’s not happening,” Bucky repeated. “We don’t know what could happen. It could kill you.”

“It could help me figure out what they did to me,” you snapped.

Dr. Cho rose to her feet. “If you’ll excuse me, Sergeant Barnes, Y/N, I’d like to enter these test results in the computer.” Without another word, she disappeared out the door.

Bucky pushed it closed and flipped the lock before turning back to you. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, his blue eyes flashing in irritation. “You’re not pushing the issue, Y/N. You could get hurt or even die.”

“But I need to know,” you muttered. You rose to your feet, purposely pushed past Bucky, stomped across the room, and yanked open the small refrigerator. You twisted the top off of a bottle of water and downed half of it in several swallows.

“If the serum they used on you is anything like the one they used to create the other Winter Soldiers, it could be dangerous. Not just for you, but for anyone near you. One of them knocked me on my ass, Y/N, and I’m practically indestructible. The serum did something to them, made them more aggressive, angrier, uncontrollable.”

“It might not be like that -”

“Or it could be exactly like that and either Steve or myself might have to hurt you in order to stop you,” Bucky growled. “I won’t let that happen.”

“You don’t trust me?” you muttered.

“I don’t trust the serum,” Bucky corrected you.

“Serum that now runs through my veins,” you added.

“I don’t want to argue with you, Y/N.”

“Then don’t!” you screamed, slamming your hand down on the counter, unbridled anger suddenly rushing through you. You spun on your heel, fist raised, vision gone black, a low snarl bursting out of you. Bucky caught your hand in his metal hand, a grimace crossing his face as you struggled with him.

“Y/N!” His hand slid up your arm and cupped your elbow, dragging you up against his chest. “Calm down!”

You planted your hands in the middle of his chest and shoved as hard as you could. Bucky stumbled back a few steps, but he didn’t release you. You swung at him again, prompting him to grab your wrists and hold them tight. You screamed in anger, an incoherent burst of nonsense. You weren’t even sure why you were angry, why you’d lost your temper, why you were trying to hurt Bucky.

The realization that you were trying to hurt  _ Bucky _ hit you like a freight train. A strangled sob left you as you wrenched free, reeling backward, your hands covering your mouth, a futile attempt to hold back your cries.

“Oh, Jesus, Bucky,” you groaned. “What the hell was that?”

Bucky pushed you back against the counter, his hands heavy on your waist. He leaned over you, his mouth slanting over yours, the kiss hard and rough. He lifted you, his hands on the back of your thighs as he set you on the counter. His hands were splayed over your back, tugging up the back of your tank top, the calloused fingers on his right hand rubbing against your soft skin.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmured. “Jesus, Buck, I’m so sorry.” A single tear slid down your cheek, your emotions spilling out of you.

“I know,” he sighed, his metal fingers brushing your cheek. “It’ll be okay, we’ll figure it out.”

You wrapped your legs around the back of his legs, pulling him closer, your arms sliding around his neck. “I’m scared,” you whispered, your lips pressed to his ear.

“So am I, doll,” he nodded. “If anything were to happen to you…” He caught your lips in his, bruising, needy, wanting. “I can’t lose you, sweetheart. It would kill me.” His tongue sank into your mouth, a deep, slow kiss that caused an ache right between your legs. 

Desire rushed through you, a sudden, indescribable need that you couldn’t deny. You grabbed his hand, pulling it between your bodies, guiding it between your legs. He growled low in the back of his throat and slid his hand past the waistband of your workout pants, his middle finger slowly caressing the lips of your pussy. He lifted you with one arm, holding you tight against him, his long middle finger pushing into you.

You moaned, your head falling to his shoulder. He kissed your neck hungrily, adding another finger beside the first, twisting them just so until you were moaning and writhing. He did it again, hitting that one perfect spot, drawing a gasp of pleasure from you.

You turned your head, burying it in the crook of his neck, inhaling his masculine scent, riding out the sensations he was pulling from you. He had two fingers deep inside of you, slowly pumping them in and out, brushing over your sweet spot each time he dragged them free before thrusting roughly back inside of you. His lips roamed continuously over your neck, kissing, nipping, and sucking at the juncture where your shoulder and neck met.

“Come for me, doll,” Bucky growled, crooking his fingers, his thumb pressed to your clit, circling it as he caressed the rough ridge of tissue on your inner walls. “I wanna feel it, sweetheart.”

You cried out Bucky’s name as you came, your back arching, your hands clamping down on Bucky’s shoulders, your slick covering his hand. Your hips bucked, grinding against his fingers, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you.

Bucky yanked your shirt over your head, dropping it to the floor. You leaned back as he kissed a trail down your neck to your fabric-covered breast and pulled the flimsy material aside with his teeth, taking the nipple in his mouth. You moaned, low in the back of your throat, his name a curse on your lips. He maneuvered you out of your pants and underwear, his hands sliding up your thighs, caressing your warm center with his thumb, his mouth on your naked breast.

You grabbed his chin, pulling his lips to yours, urging him to kiss you. You fumbled with the button on the jeans he was wearing, yanking them open, and slipping your hand inside his boxers. Bucky sighed as your hand wrapped around him, pushing himself into your fist.

“Bucky, please,” you moaned, shoving his jeans down his hips.

He nodded and pulled you toward him, lifting your hips to meet his, the head of his cock easing into you. Your fingers tightened on his shoulders, digging into the flesh through his t-shirt, as he filled you completely. Bucky braced himself against the wall behind you with one hand, his other around your waist, his hips slowly rocking into yours. The two of you moved together wordlessly, so attuned to each other’s wants and needs that words were unnecessary. Bucky knew exactly how to get you off, exactly how to move, where to touch you, what to do to make you breathe out his name on a shaky, stuttered breath.

Your muscles tightened around him, your orgasm close, the pleasure building to a deafening crescendo, Bucky thrusting harder and faster until you were both coming, the intensity of the orgasm causing your vision to go white and your head to spin. 

You clung to Bucky when it was over, kissing the side of his face, his neck, his ear, your fingers tangled in his hair.

“Tell me everything is going to be okay. Promise me it will be okay,” you murmured. “Please, Bucky, just say the words so I can hear them.”

“I can’t, doll,” Bucky sighed. “I won’t make you a promise I can’t keep.” He brushed a kiss over your lips as he hugged you to his chest. “But I can promise you I’ll do whatever I can to protect you.”

“That’s enough,” you breathed, your head resting on his shoulder. “That’s all I need.” You pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. “I could also use a shower,” you laughed, trying to lighten the moment.

Bucky set you on your feet and bent to grab your clothes. When he crouched down, you noticed the bruises on his neck, bruises in the shape of  _ your _ fingers. You reached back, steadying yourself on the counter, and as you did, you felt an indentation in the metal. Eyes wide, you turned and placed your hand over it. It fit perfectly.

You had done that, you had dented the metal counter when you’d slammed your hand on it. You sucked in a startled breath, the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

What the hell was happening?


	27. Moving Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You struggle to come to terms with your new strength and your evolving relationship with Bucky.

It had been nearly a month since Bucky and Steve had rescued you from Senator Wilner. A battery of tests and psychological exams hadn’t brought you any closer to figuring out what had been done to you during your time with Wilner and every day that passed saw you growing more and more frustrated. It was becoming increasingly difficult for you to keep your temper under control.

In an effort to be open and honest with Bucky, you had told him about the anger you’d been experiencing and the crazy bouts of strength that would often occur, seemingly out of nowhere. He was doing his best to help you to learn to channel your anger, to focus it, to use it to your advantage. You’d begun training with Steve a few times a week, learning to control the unexpected strength, learning to control muscles you’d never used before, learning to channel the anger into something more productive. So, three or four days a week, sometimes more if he wasn’t on a mission, you would meet Steve in the training room, where you would spend an hour or two working out, honing the new skills you were slowly learning. Bucky didn’t like it, in fact, he hated it, but he kept quiet about it.

“Why does it bother Bucky so much that you’re training me?” you asked Steve a couple of weeks after your workouts started.

“He’s worried you’ll get hurt,” Steve shrugged. “But, he also knows that if he was in charge of it, he’d go easy on you. The whole point of us doing this is to teach you to channel that anger, to learn to use the new strength you have. You’re doing a great job figuring it out, too. I’m impressed.”

“Do you think I could ever go out on a mission with you guys?” you inquired.

“Do you want Bucky to kill me?” he muttered.

“Bucky wouldn’t -”

“Yes, he would,” Steve interrupted. “I won’t even consider asking him because I like my head attached to my body.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Steve shook his head and put his hand up. “It has nothing to do with you being a woman or not being able to take care of yourself or anything like that. Bucky loves you, Y/N, and the last thing on earth he wants is something to happen to you. It would kill him. Buck is protective of the people he cares about, the people he loves. That’s you.”

“And you,” you grinned.

“I’m sure if he had his way, I’d probably be locked in the compound and never leave,” Steve laughed. “Fortunately, he doesn’t get his way on that one. Seriously though, maybe don’t push the issue about going out on missions. He’s still getting used to whatever this new thing with you is. Give him time.”

“It’s just frustrating,” you sighed. “I...I just...I don't even know what I’m doing with my life.”

Steve gave you a one-armed hug and smiled down at you. “I know it’s tough. But you’re a tough girl. Just let things happen naturally.”

“Go with the flow,” you snorted.

“Try,” Steve nodded. He hefted his bag onto his shoulder. “And if you need somebody to talk to, you know somebody that isn’t Bucky, you know you can talk to me. Or Wanda. She adores you.”

“You guys are amazing,” you smiled. “Really. Thank you.”

Steve squeezed your arm and left the gym, tossing you one last wave over his shoulder. You gathered your things and left to find Bucky. He grounded you in a way no one else could. Your head wasn’t in a good place; everything was weird and surreal, your life taking a turn you’d never expected. Though you’d had no idea what you would do once you’d finished testifying against HYDRA - something that still hadn’t happened - you’d certainly never expected to be living in the Avengers compound and in love with a super-soldier.

Nor had you ever imagined that you’d be fighting your own body for control, re-learning everything about yourself. It was a battle you’d never thought you’d have to fight. Some days it was all you could do to hold on to your sanity.

* * *

Bucky was with Steve, gone, away on some top-secret mission, so secret you weren’t privy to any information about it. It had been nearly a week with no contact and you were getting antsy. You’d visited with Dr. Cho, spent more than an hour in the training room, then you’d showered and headed back to your quarters.

You stepped into the room and shut the door behind. Somebody stepped out of the shadows behind you, startling you. You spun around, your hands came up, and you fell into a defensive posture, ready to fight. Bucky murmured your name, his touch familiar, his breath warm against your skin, as he pulled you into his arms. You relaxed in his grip, your arms sliding around his neck.

“You scared the hell out of me,” you scolded. “I almost kicked your ass because I didn’t know you were back.”

“You were gonna kick my ass?” he laughed. “That I’d like to see. Are you sorry to see me?”

“No,” you laughed, pulling him down to kiss you.

Only one light was burning in the room, in the small living area, the door to the bedroom open, jazz music playing quietly from the speakers in the corner, two glasses and a bottle of wine on the coffee table.

“What’s all this?” you whispered.

“I missed you,” Bucky whispered.

“You did?”

“I always miss you when I’m away from you,” he smiled. He handed you a glass of wine, his smile widening when you moaned as the sweet nectar hit your tongue. He brushed your hair off of your face and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

“I missed you, too,” you murmured.

His rough, calloused hand and his smooth metal one were everywhere, running over your skin, exploring everything he was already more than familiar with, his kisses sweet, gentle, insistent. Impatient for more, he plucked the wine glass from your hand, set it on the table, then he lifted you, pulling your legs around his waist, and carried you to the bedroom. Bucky lowered you to the bed, his lips still on yours, kissing you breathless.

Your head fell back against the headboard as Bucky kissed his way down your body, his stubbled chin rasping against your sensitive skin. He wrapped his fingers in the waistband of your jeans and underwear, pulling them slowly down your legs, leaving you naked from the waist down. He situated himself between your legs, his hands on your hips, thumbs resting lightly on your pelvis, his nose sliding along the soft skin surrounding your heated core. His lips parted, the tip of his tongue slipped out, tenderly caressing the silken folds.

A guttural moan escaped you, the sound vibrating through both of you. You grabbed Bucky’s wrists, dragging yourself closer to him, to his mouth, wanting more, needing more.

Bucky chuckled, squeezing your hips to keep you still. His mouth moved over your pussy, not quite a lick, not quite a kiss, but a subtle, gentle caress that left your body burning with promises of more. He rained kisses over your stomach, pushing your shirt off as he moved up your body, finally settling on your breast. He pulled it into his mouth, teasing the nipple repeatedly with his tongue. He pushed a hand between your legs, easing them open so he could slide a finger inside of you, his thumb pressed to your clit. He teased it, brushing his thumb over it, nipping at your nipple as he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

Bucky had you precariously balanced on the edge of pleasure and pain, his fingers inside of you, his teeth tugging at your nipple, pushing you rapidly toward climax. You grabbed his arm, your nails digging into his bicep, your hips grinding against his fingers.

All it took was Bucky’s lip on your ear, his low voice whispering “Come for me, doll,” to send you over the edge. You screamed out your pleasure, your body lighting up with pure ecstasy. You grabbed his head between your hands, caught his lips in yours, and kissed him desperately.

But, his kiss was nothing more than a tease, a brush of his tongue over your lips as he slid down your body, suckling your breast until the nipple was a tight, hard nub aching for his attention. His metal hand replaced his mouth as he continued his trek down your body, leaving your body scorched everywhere his lips touched. The fingers of his other hand were still moving inside of you, caressing your inner walls, each brush over your sweet spot causing your body to scream with need. He eased his fingers out of you, replacing them immediately with his tongue, his hand sliding under your ass to lift you to meet his mouth.

Bucky’s name rolled off your tongue, both a curse and a prayer, your body humming, nearly vibrating with the need to let go, to allow the pleasure to sear through your very bones, to let the pleasure take you and fill you. You held back, afraid to let go, afraid of  _ yourself _ , in a way you never had been before, afraid you would hurt Bucky.

Bucky’s fingers curled around yours, squeezing gently, his touch grounding you, reminding you that you were safe with him, you would always be safe with him, that he could take whatever you gave him. You closed your eyes, your head thrown back, the orgasm rolling through you, encompassing you, burning through you, leaving you a trembling mess, the intensity almost more than you could handle. When he finally released you, your entire body was shaking and you could barely move.

Once again, he kissed his way up your body until he was nestled between your legs, his hips thrusting into yours, grinding against you. He was insatiable, biting, sucking, kissing you, making you ache with desire, nearly savage, his control slipping with his need to take you. His cock was hard, throbbing and pulsing behind the thick fabric of his leathers. With an impatient huff, he pushed himself to his feet and yanked off his clothes, tossed them aside, then he was back on you, his mouth covering yours, kissing you like it had been months instead of days since you’d seen each other. Bucky rolled to his back, pulling you with him, sighing as the weight of your body settled on him. The tip of his cock brushed against you, your slick covering him.

A moan rumbled through his chest, his hands clamping down tightly on your waist as he lifted you, holding you as you lowered yourself onto his throbbing shaft, his lower lip caught between his teeth, his blue eyes nearly black with lust as he watched you. You put your hands on his chest and rocked forward, moaning as he filled you.

“Fuck, yes,” Bucky growled, his eyes rolling back in his head as you started to move, his hips coming up off the bed, his cock sliding deeper inside you. He released his tight hold on your waist, sliding his hands down your hips to rest them on the top of your thighs. “Move, doll.”

You followed his instructions, rocking forward and back, trembling a little when his cockhead brushed your g-spot. You did it again, a deep shudder racing through you with every move. Bucky’s hands curled around your thighs, pulling you forward, his head thrown back, breathy groans leaving him every time you moved.

You started slow, letting the sensations roll through you, but Jesus, you wanted to move, wanted to ride him hard and fast, ride him until you were both exhausted, until you were falling into his arms, spent. You leaned over him, cupping his face in your hands, kissing him. He returned it, enthusiastically, one hand on the back of your neck, holding you to him, his kisses greedy and probing.

Bucky pulled away, nipping at your lips as he broke off the kiss. “Turn around,” he ordered.

You didn’t hesitate, dropping another quick kiss to his cheek before lifting yourself off of him and turning around so you were facing his feet. You braced your hands on his thighs as Bucky held his cock, brushing it against the lips of your pussy, one hand on your waist, guiding you as he easily slid into you.

You closed your eyes, rocking backward, gasping as Bucky thrust into you, filling you completely. Every drag of his cock hit just perfectly at that angle, every thrust pushed you closer to climax. You let your hand slide down your body, let it come to rest between your legs, your fingers pressed to your clit, moaning at the intense combination of Bucky inside of you and your own movement. He put both hands on your waist, his thumbs resting on the curve of your back, yanking you forward and back, silently encouraging you to move, urging you on.

You were nearly in a frenzy, insatiable, your thoughts focused on getting not only yourself off, but Bucky as well. You were covered in a light sheen of sweat, wanton cries of pleasure coming from you, your entire body hovering right on the edge.

Bucky yanked you backward, hard, his hips coming up off the bed, burying himself inside you. You felt his body tense beneath yours, his cock surge, felt his fingers clamp down so hard on your waist that you knew there would be bruises later. The orgasm rushed through you, your vision gone white, every muscle trembling, exquisite pleasure consuming you. When it was over, you fell forward, your arms resting on Bucky’s thighs, gasping for air.

He ran his hands up and down your back, his touch soft, gentle. “You okay, doll?”

“Mm-hm,” you nodded. “Just tired, but in a good way.” You rolled off of him, pressed a kiss to his cheek, then you climbed out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. You cleaned yourself up and splashed some water on your face.

Bucky slipped his arms around you from behind, his vibranium thumb circling your belly button as he pressed soft kisses to your shoulders. “You’re a liar,” he murmured. “You’re not okay.”

You turned around and let him pull you into his arms, your head resting on his shoulder. “I can’t tell you exactly what’s wrong. I feel like I’m in this weird limbo between the real world and something else. I’m not sure what I’m doing. Is this my life now? Waiting for you to come back from missions, contributing nothing? I feel like I’m...I don’t know, lost.”

“You contribute,” Bucky said. “We couldn’t -”

“- do what you do without Pepper and I helping,” you finished. “I know. But, I can’t help but think that’s not enough. I want to do more. There has to be more than being an Avengers’ girlfriend.”

“That’s not enough?” Bucky laughed. “I’m kind of a handful.”

“Yes, you are,” you sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m being crazy.”

“It’s okay, doll. I get it. This is all new and different. Who knew when you walked through that door seven months ago that this would be where we would be. We’ll figure it out. Keep moving forward. That’s all we can do.”

“Move forward,” you repeated. “I think I can do that.”

“I know you can, doll. We’ll figure it out. We have so far, right?” He kissed your cheek and hugged you tighter. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too.”


	28. Unexpected News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You haven’t been feeling well and it takes its toll on you, making Bucky worry.

The first time it happened, you were in the common room, alone, standing in front of the open refrigerator, reaching for a bottle of water. One minute you were on your feet, the next you were on the floor, sprawled over the cold tile, with no idea how you got there.

You chalked it up to dehydration and exhaustion, after all, you’d just spent an hour working out and you still weren’t sleeping well, so you brushed it off, and didn't mention it to anyone. You also chose to ignore the seemingly ever-present feeling of nausea and lightheadedness, again thinking it was nothing more than a lack of water and sleep. You did your best to drink more water and get extra sleep at night. 

Unfortunately, the next time it happened, it was in front of a room full of people, including Bucky, who about lost his shit. He scooped you off the floor and carried you through the halls of the compound to the infirmary, demanding Cho examine you immediately. She agreed, but only if he waited outside with Steve. He left, but only after Steve grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the room.

"Alright, what's going on?" she asked once he was gone.

"I don't know," you shrugged. "I think I'm just dehydrated or something. I thought the first time was a fluke."

"Wait, this has happened before?" Cho said.

You nodded, then quickly explained what had happened the first time. When you were finished, Helen drew some blood, then ordered you to lie down while she ran a couple of tests. She let Bucky in as she stepped out, warning him to behave himself. He growled at her, but sat gingerly on the side of the bed and took your hand. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and hugged you gently.

You waited in silence, Bucky's leg bouncing, his fingers tapping on the sheet-covered mattress, the only sound the soft whirring of the gears in his vibranium arm when he moved. You knew he was worried that this was yet another issue with the unknown serum racing through your veins. To be honest, so were you.

A half an hour after you'd entered the infirmary, Dr. Cho returned, a single piece of white paper in her hand.

"Bad news, doc?" Bucky murmured.

"On the contrary, Sergeant Barnes," Cho smiled. "I think congratulations are in order." She handed the slip of paper to Bucky with one line highlighted in bright green.

_ Pregnancy test - positive _

* * *

You found Steve in the weight room, alone. He smiled when he saw you, wiped the sweat from his brow with the towel in his hand, and patted the bench beside him. You sat down, your hands clasped between your legs, staring at your shoes.

“Where is he?” you murmured.

“He went running,” he replied. “Said he needed some time alone.” Steve cleared his throat. “How are you?”

“Me? Oh, I’m just great,” you scoffed. “I’ve got some crazy, unknown serum running through my body and surprise, I’m pregnant, and nobody has any idea how that serum could affect the baby. Oh, and my boyfriend is a super-soldier who risks his life for a living and has decided to avoid me instead of talking to me about the fact that we’re going to have a baby. So, yeah, I’m great.” You dropped your head into your hands and attempted to hold back the tears, though one did slide down your cheek.

Steve slipped an arm around your shoulders and hugged you. “Hey, give him a little time, okay? Trust me when I say he is totally in love with the idea of being a dad. It’s just...it’s an adjustment. Buck spent a lot of years in a bad place, a lot of years believing he was a monster and now, I think...well, I think he’s going through this weird ‘I don’t deserve this’ thing.”

“I don’t understand -”

Steve took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Bucky doesn’t think he deserves to be happy. He’ll never say it out loud or admit to it, but I know that’s what he thinks. He believes that he shouldn’t get the good things because of all the bad he’s done.” Steve bumped his shoulder into yours. “You’re a good thing, kiddo, and as far as Bucky is concerned, he doesn’t deserve you. Or this baby.”

“But that’s not true,” you whispered.

“Try telling him that,” Steve snorted.

“I’m going to,” you said. “Whether he likes it or not.” You hugged Steve, grateful that Bucky - and you - had such a good friend. “Thank you.”

Steve kissed the top of your head. “You’re welcome.”

“Get your paws off my girl, Rogers.”

Bucky stood in the doorway, glaring at the two of you, though a smile danced at the corner of his lips. You darted across the room and threw yourself into his arms, giggling when he caught you with a playful growl and loudly kissed you.

“I’m working on getting my own girl,” Steve mumbled as he passed the two of you. “If she wasn’t so damn stubborn we’d probably be married by now.”

“Tell Maria I said hi,” Bucky yelled after his friend.

“Maria?” you asked. “As in Agent Maria Hill?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded. “They’ve been dancing around each other for years. Maria keeps putting him off. But, he finally wore her down; they’ve got a date next week.”

“Good, Steve needs somebody,” you said.

“Especially since I’m going to be busy with my wife and new baby,” Bucky smirked.

You took a step back, unsure you’d heard him correctly. You probably looked like an idiot standing there with your mouth hanging open, staring at Bucky.

“Did you...did you say  _ wife _ ?” you stammered.

Bucky nodded, caught your hands in his, and dragged you close, his blue eyes locking on yours. “I love you, doll, I love you more than I ever thought possible. And now you’re having my baby? Things couldn’t be more perfect. I want you with me for the rest of my life. Call me old-fashioned, but I want to do this right and make you my wife. I ain’t got a ring or anything fancy to say, just me asking you to spend the rest of your life with me.”

You flew at him, your arms going around his neck, sending him stumbling backward, the two of you falling to the ground. He grunted, pulled you close, his mouth slanting over yours, kissing you breathless.

“Is that a yes?” he murmured.

“It’s  _ hell _ yes,” you laughed. “I guess that means you’re okay with me being pregnant.”

“Of course I am, doll,” he said. “I’m thrilled. Nervous as hell, but happy nonetheless. It’s going to be amazing.”

“What about the serum?”

“We’ll figure it out, with Cho and Banner’s help. Stark even said he’d do whatever it takes to help. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” you muttered. You rested your forehead on Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m scared.”

Bucky rubbed your back, his touch soothing, comforting. “I know, doll. So am I. But, it’ll be okay. I promise. I’ll make sure of it.”

“You’re my hero, Bucky Barnes.”

“I’m not a hero, sweetheart. I’m just me. A guy who loves you.”

“That’s all I need,” you murmured.


	29. Early

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things don’t always go as planned, but that doesn’t mean they don’t work out.

Three days.

Three days of sitting in the tiny room crowded with equipment while Bucky paced the hallway outside; five days of people coming in and out, checking on you, checking on him, or offering their help. You couldn't do anything more than nod, not when fear clutched your heart between its ice-cold hands, not when you were still reeling from the trauma of childbirth, not when all of your energy was going toward holding yourself together.

Three days.

Three days of praying your son survived.

* * *

The pregnancy hadn't been easy; the bastardized super serum combined with the dump of pregnancy hormones had wreaked havoc on your body, causing problems no one had anticipated. You ate all the goddamn time, a high-calorie diet meant to add as much weight as possible, but it didn't work; your metabolism ran too high for you to keep any weight on, in fact, you were losing it faster than you could gain it. You were weak, barely able to stand some days, the baby taking everything from you, sapping your strength. By the fourth month of your pregnancy, Dr. Cho had you on IV fluids twice a day and she monitored your diet like a general watching over his troops. Bucky brought you food practically every hour of the day, making sure you were eating, even when you weren't hungry. You began to hate the thought of food in any form.

Not only was your metabolism running off the charts, but some of your senses were heightened as well. You could hear conversations down the hallway and your sense of smell was heightened, both the good and the bad. It wasn’t uncommon for the foul odors to make you gag. But you also were more attuned to pheromones - if Banner’s guess was correct - to the point that if Bucky even took a breath in the same room as you it would make your heart rate spike and your gut twist with need. If Dr. Cho hadn’t put you on bed rest and kept you under constant supervision, you wouldn’t have let Bucky leave the bedroom.

Miraculously, toward the end of your fifth month, you started to gain weight, fast, putting on more than fifty pounds in a couple of weeks. While your senses still seemed to be better than the average person’s, they did seem to normalize somewhat. Everyone breathed a little easier after that happened, especially you. You hadn't let on exactly how worried you were. You hoped you were out of the woods and that the bizarre start to your pregnancy had been nothing more than a fluke. After a few weeks, you felt like things were going well, you were feeling good, confident, and happy. In fact, things were going so well that you had tentatively started to make wedding plans again, after putting them on hold for almost four months.

Your luck ran out on Bucky's birthday, eight weeks shy of your due date. The two of you had spent the afternoon alone, had an early dinner, and cuddled while watching a movie, Bucky's metal hand on your stomach, his lips on yours. Needless to say, you hadn't seen much of the movie. You'd fallen asleep wrapped in his arms, unaware that your world was about to turn upside down.

The first pain tore you from sleep, jolting you awake, a startled scream leaving you. Your hands immediately went to your stomach, your body curling into a fetal position, the pain indescribable.

Bucky shot up, panting, the blankets twisted around his legs, voice tainted by fear. "Jesus, doll, what is it?"

"I-I don't know," you cried, pushing yourself upright and reaching for him. You froze, a pained groan leaving you when you saw the bright red blood covering the sheets. 

"Shit," Bucky growled. He picked you up, shouldered the door open, and took off at a dead run down the hall. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., get Dr. Cho and Banner to the infirmary ASAP. Tell them it's Y/N and something is wrong."

Everything after that was a blur. Blood, tears, screaming, and pain were the only things you could remember until Bucky held you down and Cho injected you with something that knocked you out. When you woke up, you were in a hospital bed, and everything felt wrong.

“Bucky?” you whispered.

He was at your side in an instant, pulling you into his arms, peppering your face with kisses. “Jesus, doll, I’ve been worried sick about you.”

“Wh-what happened?” Everything came rushing back in a flood of bad memories. “The baby? Where’s the baby?” Your hands went immediately to your stomach, finding it decidedly smaller.

“He’s down the hall -”

“It’s a boy,” you murmured. “We have a little boy?”

“Yeah, baby, we do,” Bucky sighed. “He’s beautiful, just like his mama.”

“Is he...is he okay?”

Bucky scrubbed a hand over his face. “He’s not doing great. Because he was born at thirty-two weeks, his lungs aren’t fully developed. He’s having a rough time breathing. Cho has him in an incubator and he’s on oxygen. He’s struggling, doll.” He squeezed your hand and forced a smile onto his face.

“Can I see him?”

“Of course,” he nodded. “Give me a minute.”

He disappeared out the door only to return a few minutes later with a wheelchair and Dr. Cho. You didn’t like the sympathetic smile on her face.

“Is that really necessary?” you asked, gesturing at the wheelchair.

“I’m afraid it is,” Dr. Cho said. “You lost a lot of blood during the birth. We weren’t sure you were going to make it. I have to insist.”

Bucky helped you into the wheelchair then followed Dr. Cho down the hall to a small room crowded with medical equipment. In the center of the room was a small incubator, a very tiny baby lying inside wearing only a diaper that looked too big for him.

“Oh my god.” Tears sprung to your eyes, flowing down your cheeks. “He’s so...so little.”

Dr. Cho knelt beside the wheelchair, her hand on yours. “Actually, he’s a pretty good size for a baby born eight weeks early. He weighs five pounds, give or take an ounce or two. At the rate he was growing, you wouldn’t have made your due date. Right now, our biggest concern is his lungs. He’s struggling to breathe.”

“Is there anything you can do?” you whispered.

“We’re doing everything we can,” she answered. “All we can do is wait and see if he makes it.”

“Wait? How long?”

“I don’t know, Y/N. I wish I could tell you,” Cho said. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded, swiped at the tears in your eyes, and sat up straight, squaring your shoulders.

“Then we wait.”

* * *

You pulled the blanket up to your chin, leaned your head against the back of the couch, and closed your eyes. You wanted to sleep, but you also  _ didn’t _ want to sleep. You were afraid if you laid down, you would sleep so deeply that you wouldn’t hear your phone and nothing, absolutely nothing, was more important to you than being able to answer your phone if necessary. 

Just to be sure, you checked it again, making sure the ringer was on, it was turned up all the way, and the vibration was on. You couldn’t miss a call. You just couldn’t. It didn’t matter what Cho said. You could rest later, when your son came home.

You could picture him in his incubator, looking so small, so lost, so vulnerable. You swallowed around the lump rising in your throat and did your best not to cry again. Crying only gave you a headache.

Cho had ordered you back to your quarters, insisting that you needed rest. And while logically, you knew she was right, you were loath to leave your baby alone in his incubator. It wasn’t until Wanda said she would sit with him that you had agreed to try and get some rest. Wanda had promised she would call you if anything changed. Anything.

You closed your eyes and exhaled slowly, then you dragged in a deep breath and did it again. Your eyes slipped closed and you were drifting off when a warm body pressed up against your back and a vibranium arm slid around your waist.

“Hi,” you murmured, relaxing against Bucky’s chest, your hand resting on top of his.

“Hey, doll,” he breathed. “How are you?”

“Tired. Worried.” You shrugged, unable to fully express what you were feeling. It was elation coupled with sadness, a bizarre tug-of-war going on inside of you. You felt like you were stuck in limbo, everything you’d planned for suddenly put on hold in suspended animation, no moving forward or backward. You didn’t know what to do or how to cope. You were lost.

Bucky kissed the side of your neck. “Let it out, baby,” he whispered.

The dam broke. You twisted in his arms, your face pressed against his chest, heaving sobs wracking your body. You were babbling, incoherent sounds that made no sense to anyone, not to Bucky, not even to you. Not that you cared. You let it all out.

Bucky held you close and let you cry, let you get out all the emotions that were tearing you apart. When it was over, you curled up against his chest, closed your eyes, and fell asleep.

* * *

The first thing you heard when you eased into the room was the quiet beep of the oxygen monitor. You grabbed a chair, set it beside your son’s incubator, and leaned over to look at him, pleased to see him looking up at you with bright blue eyes.

“Hi, sweetie,” you murmured. 

At the sound of your voice, he turned toward you, bringing a smile to your face. Every time you spoke or Bucky spoke to him, he responded, turning toward you, his eyes shining. You glanced at the clock on the wall. Cho had said that she thought you might be able to hold him today. Time had ticked by at a snail’s crawl ever since.

The door opened and Bucky strode in, a tray in his hand. He set it on the small table by your chair, kissed the top of your head, and crouched beside the incubator, his metal hand resting on the side of it.

“Hey, big guy, how’s it going?”

You could have sworn the baby smiled, though you were sure it was nothing more than your imagination playing tricks on you. You pushed the hair away from Bucky’s face and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“He still needs a name,” you murmured.

Bucky took your hand and squeezed it gently. “I thought of one,” he said. “What do you think of Evan James?”

A smile spread across your face. “Evan James Barnes? It’s perfect. I love it.”

“Barnes, huh?”

Before you could answer, the door opened and Dr. Cho came in. “So, we’re getting that baby out of the incubator today,” she said.

“Wait? Did you say  _ out _ of the incubator?” you asked.

Dr. Cho nodded and smiled. “We ran a whole battery of tests this morning and your son is doing amazing. Far better than we thought. We think he should be able to breathe on his own.”

“Really?” Bucky asked. “Out of the incubator?”

“If all goes well,” Cho said. “We’ll take him off the incubator and we’ll monitor him for the next twenty-four hours. Hopefully, if he’s doing as well as I think, he should do just fine. In fact, I think you could take him to your quarters tomorrow.”

Your heart leaped at the thought of being able to bring your son home. Before his birth, you and Bucky had moved into larger quarters on one of the levels below ground of the compound, one that had two bedrooms, a living room, and a kitchen. Because you were on bed rest, you had supervised Bucky decorating the baby’s room, with help from Steve and Wanda. The room had come out better than you’d hoped, perfect in fact. You’d been anxiously awaiting his arrival so you could utilize the room. That moment was getting closer with every second that passed.

Twenty minutes later, you and Bucky were sitting side by side, gowned, washed to your elbows, and ready to hold your son. Your entire body was vibrating in anticipation. When Cho gently took him from the incubator, a tear slipped down your cheek. She laid him in your arms and your heart split. Half of it belonged to him and the other half belonged to Bucky. You were gone.

“Hi, baby,” you murmured. “I’m your mama.”

Bucky rested his hand on Evan’s stomach, his eyes widening when the baby wrapped his tiny hand around Bucky’s vibranium finger.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled.

“Buck, language,” you giggled.

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “Guess I’m going to have to remember to watch my language.” Bucky pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Thank you, doll.”

“For what?”

“For everything,” he smiled.

* * *

“Alright, Dr. Cho, let’s hear it,” Bucky said, tucking your hand in his.

Cho opened the folder on the desk in front of her. “You can relax, Mr. Barnes,” she smiled. “I have good news.”

“Good news?” you murmured.

“Yes, Baby Boy...I mean, Evan...excuse me,” Cho smiled. “Evan is doing very well. We’ve monitored him very closely the last twenty-four hours since we took him out of the incubator. He’s breathing on his own without any problems whatsoever, his blood work looks good, in fact, it looks fantastic. He’s gained more than a pound in the last week and he’s eating well. I think you can take him to your quarters.”

“Finally,” you sighed. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

“I gotta ask the obvious question, Dr. Cho,” Bucky interjected. “You said his blood work looks fantastic. Did you check for traces of the serum in his blood?”

“We did,” Cho nodded. “And it was clear. Not a trace of it at all.” She closed the folder and cleared her throat. “Speaking of the serum, Y/N, we tested your blood as well. Standard procedure after you had Evan. Your blood shows barely any trace of the serum. Less than a one percent concentration.”

“What does that mean?” Bucky asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Cho shrugged. 

“So, I’m better?” you said. “The serum is gone.”

“We think so, but we’re going to keep an eye on you and see what happens. Bruce seems to think that the bastardized serum was so bastardized that the effects weren’t long term. I want to see you every two weeks to test your blood and see how things are going. Okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“Great,” she replied. “Now, take your baby home and enjoy your family time. After everything you’ve been through, you deserve it.”

Bucky took your hand as you left the office, tugging you close and hugging you to his side. He pressed a kiss to your temple and whispered “I love you” in your ear.

The next hour was a crazy whirlwind. Bucky ran down to your quarters to pick up Evan’s clothes and carrier while you went to your son’s room in the infirmary to help remove the various electrodes attached to him and give him a bath. Evan screamed his head off, but you were overjoyed to hear it; strong, healthy screams that made you cry with relief. Once Bucky was back, you dressed Evan and carefully put him in his carrier, which Bucky carried out of the infirmary. Steve, Wanda, Clint, Tony, Pepper, and Maria Hill met you outside the doors and walked with you, Evan’s own little entourage of protectors. You knew that your son would always be safe, always have the strongest people in the world looking out for him, taking care of him.

But nobody would protect him more than his father.

While you were excited to finally have Evan home, you were still exhausted after everything that had happened. Dr. Cho had been adamant that you needed rest, too, and that you were not to put your own health at risk. And of course, she’d told Bucky, so he was keeping a close eye on you while helping as much as he could. He sent you to bed around midnight, despite Evan still being awake and fussy. You tried to protest, but he refused to listen.

“I got this, doll,” he said. “Go get some sleep.”

You did as he said, reluctantly, but the minute your head hit the pillow, you were asleep. You woke up with a start at five a.m., straining to hear Evan’s cries or Bucky grumbling. It was eerily quiet.

You climbed out of bed and padded through the apartment, glancing into Evan’s empty room on your way to the living room. You could hear the television playing quietly, something vaguely familiar. When you came around the corner you saw that it was The Maltese Falcon.

Bucky was lying on the couch, a pillow propped behind his head, eyes closed, soft snores coming from him. Evan was on Bucky’s chest, sound asleep, a blanket thrown over him, his father’s hand resting lightly on his back. Everything you wanted and needed was right there in front of you. 

Bucky and Evan, the two halves of your heart.


	30. At Long Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything you ever wanted is right in front of you. 

You squeezed Bucky’s hand and glued yourself to his side, so close you weren’t sure how he was able to walk without tripping over you. But, he was infinitely patient with you, so he took it in stride, sliding his arm around your waist and hugging you close.

“We’re almost there, doll, just breathe,” he murmured in your ear.

“This is too much like the last time I was in Washington,” you muttered.

“Except this time, we’re going out through the secret entrance, using a decoy, and not taking a quinjet. Everything will be fine.”

You nodded in agreement, knowing that Bucky was right. Steve and Bucky had both gone over this with you a hundred times. After you testified in front of the committee in a closed-door, no press allowed meeting, Sam would take you through a secret entrance below the chambers while Natasha, disguised as you, would leave with Steve and Clint through the front entrance. Bucky would meet you below the Capitol building and together he and Sam would escort you to a waiting vehicle, which would be used to take you out of D.C. Only Bucky knew your destination.

Of course, as far as Hydra was concerned, Bucky had not accompanied you to D.C. Sam and Steve had gone out of their way to make it appear as if Bucky had stayed behind. You could only hope that they’d been fooled. Everyone seemed to be confident that everything would be fine - Natasha’s disguise was foolproof, Steve and Clint had spent the last twenty-four hours making it seem as if they were the only Avengers that had accompanied you. They were sure it had worked.

Even once you were in the car, a bulletproof monstrosity that Tony had supplied, your hands were still shaking and you were nauseous. You refused to let go of Bucky’s hand, holding it tightly, your foot tapping incessantly. You blew out a shaky breath, laid your head against the back of the seat, and closed your eyes.

“I can’t look,” you mumbled.

“Relax, doll,” Bucky said. “Things are going according to plan. Steve said even the press is fooled; they think Nat is you.”

“Where are we going?” you asked as the car emerged from the tunnel beneath the Capitol Building.

“Tony has a place about two hours outside of the city,” Bucky explained. “Small cabin, secluded, way off the beaten path. We’re going up there for a couple of days.”

You narrowed your eyes and stared at your husband. “What?”

Bucky shrugged one shoulder, a cute, lopsided grin on his face. “Look, sweetheart, we’ve been married almost six months and because of all the insanity in our lives -”

“You mean your job, me testifying against Hydra, and our seven-month-old son, that craziness?” you interrupted.

“Yes, that craziness,” he laughed. “Because of all that, you never got a honeymoon. I thought it would be nice if we got away for a couple of days. Just the two of us.”

“What about Evan?” you asked.

“He’s with Wanda,” Bucky said. “And he’s fine. He loves her, you know that. Not to mention that once everyone gets back from D.C., he’ll have his entire entourage of protectors with him. I think he’ll be okay for two days.”

“Two days? You promise, just two days? No more?”

“Is that all you can tolerate with me?” he joked. “Two days?”

“No,” you giggled. “I think I can put up with you a lot longer than that. I just worry about Evan.”

“He’ll be fine,” Bucky whispered, squeezing your hand.

You knew Bucky was right, your son would be fine. He couldn’t possibly be in better hands and honestly, you really could use a couple of days to reconnect with your husband. You hadn’t been lying when you’d said your lives were crazy - Bucky had been gone a lot, rounding up HYDRA operatives, while you’d been busy working with Pepper and Tony preparing your testimony. And of course, there was Evan. He kept both of you on your toes, all the time. The thought of sleeping in, eating a calm, sit down meal, and making love to Bucky without rushing to get down was very appealing.

“I’m not going to lie, that sounds amazing,” you sighed. You smiled at your husband. “Too good to pass up.”

“Great,” he smiled. “Two-day honeymoon it is.” He stopped at the corner, looked left, then right, hit the blinker. “This is gonna be fun.”

* * *

Bucky hadn’t been lying when he said Tony’s cabin was off the beaten path. By the time you arrived, you were feeling slightly nauseous from driving over the barely traveled dirt roads.

Apparently, Bucky had been fairly confident that you would agree to the impromptu honeymoon because he’d packed you a suitcase and stashed it in the trunk of the car. While he brought the bags inside and started dinner, you took a cool shower. You rested your head against the cold tile until the feeling of nausea passed and you started to feel human, which didn’t take long. By the time you emerged from the bedroom, you actually felt human. You slipped on the tiny nightgown Bucky had packed you and went in search of your husband.

You found him in the kitchen cutting vegetables, water boiling on the stove, and a glass of wine near his hand.

“It smells good in here,” you murmured, slipping your arms around Bucky’s waist and resting your head on his back.

“It’s just some pasta,” he chuckled. “Nothing fancy. Grab a glass, have some wine.” He nodded toward the corner of the room where you could see a small wine rack. “Tony said to help ourselves to whatever we want. Why don’t you pick something out?”

Ten minutes later, the two of you were sitting at a small table with food and glasses of wine, quiet jazz playing on the expensive stereo in the corner. It was the first time in months either you or Bucky hadn’t had to jump up and down a dozen times to attend to Evan’s needs in some way. It was heaven.

“How are you feeling, doll?” Bucky asked.

“Wonderful,” you sighed. “It’s the first time in months I haven’t had to worry that someone was going to kill me, or the serum was going to make me do something crazy, or that something would happen to Evan or you. It’s nice to just  _ sit _ , you know? Breathe a little. Thank you for forcing me to take some time away.”

Bucky burst out laughing and shook his head. “You needed it, babe,” he said. “More than you were willing to admit. Needed it and deserved it. You’re amazing.”

“I’m just me,” you muttered. “I wanted to do the right thing, ever since all that nonsense with Wilner started. That was all I ever wanted. I never imagined that HYDRA would try to kill me for it.”

Bucky gritted his teeth and his brow furrowed. “Just thinking about it -”

“Don’t,” you stopped him, your hand on his. “It’s over. And if I hadn’t gone through everything that I went through, I never would have met you.”

“That’s true,” he mumbled. “I guess some good came out of it.”

“Some good?” You shook your head. “Something amazing came out of it. Not only did I get you, but I got the most beautiful child in the world. I wouldn’t give up any of that for all the money in the world.”

Bucky pushed his empty plate away and leaned over you. “I love you, doll. You know that, right?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “Now, what do you say we clean these dishes and go to bed? And not to sleep.”

"The dishes can wait," Bucky growled.

* * *

The second you stepped into the bedroom, something seemed to snap in Bucky, and holy shit, if you didn’t welcome it. He grabbed you by the upper arms and shoved you against the wall, his mouth slanting over yours, his tongue diving into your mouth. You moaned, grabbed the front of his t-shirt, and dragged him as close as you could get him. You ran your hand down his torso, over the top of his jeans, and rested it on his already burgeoning erection. With your other hand, you traced the edge of his waistband, anxious to open his pants and take him in hand.

Bucky walked backward, pulling you with him until his knees hit the bed. He kicked off his shoes and stripped down to nothing but his boxer briefs before sitting on the edge of the bed, then he stood you between his legs, his hands on your hips as you leaned over him, took his head in your hands, and tilted his head back so you could kiss him.

Both of you were breathing heavily when you broke apart. Bucky sighed and leaned his head against your stomach, his hand sliding under the bottom of the nightgown to cup your ass. He squeezed and you knew immediately what was coming.

The first smack made you moan, your entire body tingling, arching toward Bucky. It had been too long. Bucky moved lightning quick, pulling you over his lap, your underwear off and on the floor. Another sharp slap to your ass had you writhing, already desperate for some kind of friction.

Bucky put a hand in the center of your back and leaned over you, his warm breath tickling the skin beneath your ear. “Stop squirming, doll.”

You gripped his leg, your fingers digging into the flesh of his calf, the desire, the want, the need, the anticipation driving you insane. You sucked in a deep breath and braced yourself.

The first blow sent pure bliss rushing through you, your body on fire. You gasped, your nipples hardening, brushing against the soft cotton of your nightgown.

“Again,” you moaned.

He did as you asked, the sting of the slap followed by the warm caress of his hand. Your body was wound so tight that you weren’t sure how long you would last before you came. He did it again and again until your body was hovering on the edge of pleasure and pain, desperate to come.

Bucky lifted you, pulling you into his lap so you were straddling his hips. He laid back on the bed, his hands on your waist, moving you with him, dragging you up his body until you were sitting on his chest, your knees on either side of his head. He caressed your thighs, his touch light and gentle, his blue-gray eyes sparkling, a little smirk on his face. His hands tightened on your waist and he yanked you toward him, his tongue snaking up the inside of your thigh. 

Bucky flipped up the edge of the nightgown, pulled you closer, and buried his face between your thighs with a deep growl. His tongue flicked lightly against your clit before he sucked it into his mouth, rolling the nub with his tongue. The skirt fell over his face and you could no longer see what he was doing. But you could  _ feel _ everything.

The flat of his tongue slowly slid along your folds, just teasing at your entrance. You whined, your hips rolling forward, silently begging for more. His hands dug into your ass, pulling you closer until his mouth was tight against you and his tongue was deep inside you. He pulled your hips slightly forward as his tongue moved and his mouth sucked, and you were lost, your head rolling back on your neck and your mouth falling open as a low moan slipped past your lips. You held his forearms as he rocked your body back and forth, helping you to ride his tongue, letting him fuck you with his mouth until you were so overcome by the feelings roaring through you that you were screaming Bucky’s name, the climax stealing your breath, leaving you spent. But Bucky wouldn’t let up, he continued devouring you, his mouth and tongue taking you to dizzying heights.

When it seemed as if he’d had his fill of you, Bucky slid you down his body, kissing the sensitive skin on your thighs as you moved. Once the edge of the nightgown slipped off of his face, you could see the self-satisfied smirk he wore like a badge of honor. He rolled you to his side and caught your lips in an intoxicating kiss as he pushed your pajamas off. He pinched your erect nipple between his thumb and forefinger, twisting and tugging at it until you were arching your back and panting, pushing your breast into his hand. He shoved his hand between your legs, pushing them open, then he carefully slipped his middle finger inside you, a second finger joining it almost immediately.

“Touch me, doll,” he ordered as his fingers moved inside of you.

You couldn’t obey fast enough. You slipped your hand into his boxers and took him in your hand, sliding it up and down his length, feeling him grow harder with every stroke. Bucky’s fingers moved in sync with the movements of your hand and you could feel yourself getting close again, balanced right on the edge.

Bucky released you and rolled to his back. He shoved off his boxers and sat back against the headboard, gesturing for you to come to him. You crawled up the bed until you were kneeling between his legs.

“You’re in charge, doll,” he murmured. “Whatever you want.”

You nodded, heat rushing through you as you straddled him. Bucky kept one hand on your waist as you guided him to your entrance and you slowly lowered yourself onto his throbbing cock. 

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, his head falling against the headboard, his eyes fluttering closed.

You moved, sliding forward, opening your legs wider as Bucky flexed his hips, thrusting into you, hitting your sweet spot perfectly. You moaned, your hands resting on top of Bucky’s, riding him hard and fast. He leaned forward and took your breast in his mouth, sucking greedily at the nipple. Every thrust hit your sweet spot perfectly, sending waves of bliss rolling through you. You held his hands tighter and moved faster, taking him as deep as possible, wanting every inch of him buried deep inside of you.

“Oh, God, yes,” you moaned as Bucky pumped into you, his hips pistoning madly and then you were coming again, the second orgasm impossibly better than the first.

Bucky came with a loud grunt, holding you tight against him as his entire body tensed and shuddered. He caught your lips in his, kissing you hard, hugging you to his chest.

You sprawled across his chest, barely able to move, sated. Bucky chuckled as he rolled you to your side and pulled you against his chest.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he whispered.

“I’m fantastic,” you sighed. “God, I missed that.”

“Missed sex? Um, unless I’m mistaken, we’ve been having sex.” He raised one eyebrow, a smile dancing on his lips.

You laughed and pressed your face against his arm. “You know what I mean. Ever since we had Evan, everything is rushed. It was nice to be able to take our time.”

“Yes it was,” he sighed. “You know what else I’m looking forward to? Sleeping all night.”

“Oh god, me, too,” you giggled. You sat up, grabbed your nightgown from the end of the bed, and pulled it on. “You know what I want now? Ice cream. Please tell me there’s ice cream.”

“There is,” Bucky laughed. “Let’s go have huge bowls and watch The Maltese Falcon. Sound good?”

“That sounds perfect.” You kissed his cheek and climbed out of bed. “The last one to the kitchen has to do the dishes.” You spun around and hurried down the hallway, a squeal leaving you when Bucky grabbed you from behind.

“I don’t think we’re going to get to the dishes,” he growled, pressing you against the wall and kissing you. “We might not even get to the movie.” He picked you up, threw you over his shoulder, and swatted you on the ass. “I think I might have other plans.”

“I love you, Bucky Barnes,” you giggled.

“Not as much as I love you,” he retorted. He set you on the edge of the kitchen counter. “Chocolate or vanilla?”

_**The End** _


End file.
